Awake
by Rob DS Zeta
Summary: I woke up in a glass tank, stuck in a body that definitely wasn't mine, and that was just the first few minutes. Naturally it all pretty much went downhill from there.
1. 1-1 Dazed and Confused

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect or any other licensed material.**

* * *

 _ **Awake**_

" _Dazed and Confused"_

* * *

You know what I like? Dungeons & Dragons. I like it right down to the basic idea, with someone making up an adventure and then letting it play out with characters they and their friends put time into. The dice rolls simulate the randomness of real life, and what is done and how problems are solved is heavily left up to the players. The thought of sitting around a table with friends and putting your role-playing chops to the test really hits me as having a high potential for a good time, especially after growing up on the wrong end of internet message board role-play. Every story I heard of an awesome DM leading players on an excellent quest made my own experiences with shitty moderators obsessed with smut and cyber sex seem all the more lackluster.

I'm telling you this because I actually never managed to play Dungeons & Dragons. I only ever heard stories or watched videos of others playing. In fact, I'd actually been putting together an online experience for myself and some friends before something happened to make my life extremely complicated.

What's that, you ask? Simple.

 _I woke up._

...Damn if it doesn't sound really stupid when I say it like that.

I never considered myself a heavy sleeper, though it's hard for me to say for certain whether or not I really was. On one hand I woke up early all the damn time. On the other hand you could literally hear the pipes shake from anywhere in the damn house. Dad's up and getting in the shower? Time to wake up, and that's assuming I didn't wake up when he walked down the hall to turn on the coffee maker, or when he got out of bed and caused the poor old mattress springs to shriek. The best it got for me was when I was able to ignore all of that, meaning that instead Mom had to duck her head in five minutes later and ask me if I wanted breakfast. Without fail I'd wake up when my bedroom door was opened.

Thus, now that I've said all of that, you'll hopefully believe me when I say that it came as a complete and total shock to me when woke up inside of a glass tube.

There were a lot of things to consider, chief among them being 'how', with 'why', 'what', and 'who' all tied for a close second. Unfortunately, seeing as the tube was filled with water and thus I couldn't clearly see anything, finding answers to these questions wasn't really on the table. I'd either have to drain the water first or straight up escape.

My brain began to tick, trying to come up with some course of action. Could I move? _Ow._ Stiffness was a thing, having taken up a firm residence in my limbs. I could shift, but large scale movements were going to be a problem until I got over it. Next question! Could I talk?

" _Frrrrrfck!_ " _Ow._

I could do something, though calling it talking was a stretch. Of course being underwater was its own problem. Luckily someone had deemed it wise for me to have an oxygen mask over my face. In fact…

" _Hck! Hrfk hck fhck!_ " _Ow! Ow ow ow!_

That was me coughing with a breathing tube down my gullet. No wonder I couldn't talk. At least I was being taken care of though. This situation, if anything, seemed to be vaguely medical. Perhaps the 'how' and 'why' of my circumstances were related to my health. One too many Sons-of-a-Baconator probably. Stupid sexy bacon… Having said all of that though, the question of 'what' remained. What the hell was this glass cell and what was it doing to me?

Before I could get too irritated, the sound of muffled flushing found its way to my ears. I attempted to look up, expecting to see the water level coming down. Instead something bit me on the back of the neck. _Ow. What the fuc_ _k?_

I weakly tried to reach up and rub the affected area, but this was a fruitless gesture. My arm felt like it was made out of lead, and the amount of shoulder strain required to scratch the back of my neck turned out to be so painful that it made me dizzy.

Regardless, my instincts proved to be correct. The water level did make its way down and release my face from its aquatic bonds. Just like that, I came within seconds of being able to see through the glass tube. My hope of obtaining answers flared up, only to be dashed when my vision was obscured by a descending curtain of black. It fell with the water, obscuring my vision and leaving me in the oddly nostalgic situation of being fresh out of the water with my hair stuck covering my eyes. There were a few problems with this though, mainly the facts that my hair was brown and also that it was currently cut too short to completely fall over my eyes. This stuff was clearly black and, if the sensation of it clinging to me as the water lowered was any indication, was definitely longer than I'd ever bothered to grow it.

My first thought was that I was wearing a stupid wig. Then I gave it an affirming tug with the hand I hadn't used to try and scratch my neck.

 _Ow… Why does everything hurt today?_

I pulled it, immediately leading me to two feelings. The first was sheepish guilt for every time I'd pulled my sister's hair. The second was absolute shock. This hair was attached to me. I'd felt the strain of it pulling at my scalp. It was real. It had to be. That, or I was on PCP and feeling things that weren't actually there. Strangely enough, given the sheer lack of logic behind my sudden changes in locale, hair length, and hair color, I considered being under the influence of the powerful drug a distinct possibility.

Pushing aside worries that I might actually be outside in the street eating my neighbor's lungs, I allowed myself to consider other things. For example, why had it hurt when I looked up? Against my better judgment, I tried the action again. Same result. _Ow._ This time I noticed something peculiar, that being that it was less of a bite and more of jolt. I spent a few seconds debating the wisdom of further testing before, with a click and a tingle that wriggled through every nerve in my body, whatever was back there removed itself. Not wanting to waste even a second, I tried to turn and see what it was. My breathing tube had other plans.

" _Hck hrck hgrk... Grddrmnt!_ " _Ow! The fuck is wrong with me?_

I let the process of flushing the water continue. Eventually I felt the water reach my toes, at which I realized that I was supposed to be standing. Funnily enough, the instant I noticed my need to exert strength through my legs was the moment they failed me. I slumped forward, falling into a leaning position against the glass and trying everything I could not to press my breathing apparatus against it and thus also shove my breathing tube further down my throat. It was only here that I came to grips with the absurdity of the breathing tube. Why the hell did I even need one? How badly had I been hurt?

About thirty seconds passed with me in this state. I tried several times to right myself and stand up straight, but my body seemed determined to not work the way I wanted it to. Push myself up? Slide across the glass. Push myself up. Buckle to my knees. Push myself up. Fall flat on my ass. _Ow._ Every move lead to a breathing tube induced fit as well.

" _Hck hrf… Fckn shgt!_ " _Ow. Fuck this shit!_

It was here that I attempted to remove the thing from my face. Something within me screamed, preferring that we wait for professional assistance before removing medical devices from the unholy temple that is our body. Unfortunately for that bizarre part of me, my hands were sick and tired of being useless and wanted something to get physical with.

But of course, no ignorance towards medical protocol was without its share of stinging pain.

 _Ow. Owww… Fuckohgodow._

The gurgling noise as I forcefully removed the malleable plastic tube from my windpipe was… less than pleasant, to say the least. I coughed for a solid minute afterward, retched a few times, maybe performed a few other bodily functions. Yes, it was horrible. Thank you for noticing. Let's move on.

At some point in the middle of all that, the glass tube finally decided that it was time for me to be free. Seeing as I hadn't been able to turn with the tube attached to me, I didn't notice until the glass rose up and away from me that it wasn't really a tube per say. It was more of a tank, really. Now that I was free to look around, I could see that behind me was a wall of technology that seemed well beyond my intelligence score. It helped that, as I'd fallen into a somewhat comfortable sitting position, it was no longer too much of a strain for me to reach up and move the stupid black hair out of my eyes, thus allowing me to see just fine.

Speaking of my body and things that were wrong with it, I was really cold. What was I wearing? Looking down, I found the answer to be 'not a goddamn thing'.

Also, _WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!_

As it turns out, the answer to my earlier question about how badly I'd been hurt was something along the lines of 'you needed a new body'. The one under my head? I'd never seen it before in my life. It was incredibly pale, slick, and featured some hardware I wasn't very familiar with. What the hell were these things on my chest? They were small and round, and… and _holy fuck…_ _Do_ _I even want to look at my cro_ \- _Nope. That's fucked up. There's not even anything there. What the flying hell. What the flying hell with a pogo stick._

In hindsight, what I did next was bizarrely mature. I calmed down. I forced myself to spread out, letting my pasty legs flop out of the tank and onto the cold floor of the room beyond. The rest of me leaned back into the tank's rear, effectively putting me in the most relaxed sitting position I could manage without getting up and moving. I sat there and just stared at the ceiling. It was sterile gray metal, but I appreciated how easy on the eyes it was. It let my mind empty as I just sat and focused on my breathing. Apparently being on a breathing tube had made my natural breathing reflex grow weak. So maybe my calmness came from a lack of oxygen… or maybe I was on the verge of passing out. Either way, this was my way of settling down in a nervous situation.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to four… exhale. You've been turned into some semi-genderless freakazoid thing and you don't know why. Inhale… count to eight… don't choke… exhale. Nothing is clear. Patience you must have, my young Padawan._

Panic? Panic wasn't in my lexicon. Inner peace and harmony were collectively my bitch. I very briefly let myself think that maybe this was just a dream, and I'd wake up in bed soon.

The only thing around to argue against me was a klaxon that had suddenly decided to activate nearby.

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_

" _Warning: This facility has been set to self-destruct in_ _ **ten**_ _minutes. Please enact evacuation protocols."_

Panic? Panic was good. Some might even say it'd be healthy in a situation such as this.

My first instinct upon hearing that my current location was to be blown up was to get up and run. Part of the wall across the room had become an open doorway in time with the announcement, so I knew where to start. I reached up, my hands sloppily grasping at the edges of the tank, and attempted to pull myself into a standing position. It was only after my feet had gained purchase and my knees popped into an upright pose that I remembered the last few times I'd tried standing up. You know what that means?

 _Floor!_

A fleshy thud sounded as I spilled to the floor like a self-preservational mannequin. _Ow. Getting tired of this shit._ By some miraculous stretch, I managed to angle myself to where I landed on my side rather than my face. Still hurt though, and the coldness of the metal floor wasn't helping in the slightest. There was some whimpering, some sliding, some indiscriminate cursing towards every inch of this body they'd stuck me in. You know how it is…

After flopping around like a beached shark for a little longer than I should have, I eventually rolled onto my back to catch my breath again. This gave me a few seconds to crane my neck around and examine the room I was stuck in. My earlier hope of finding answers came back to me, but I probably should've done this before getting out of the tank. Doing that would've just let me be disappointed in the comfort of a sitting position instead of the cold lonesome of the floor. The room held nothing in terms of answers. There was a desk with a chair and something that might've been a computer terminal if I had a better angle to see it from. The computer might've even been helpful, but it'd also probably require me to do some civilian grade hacking, and I wasn't sure I really had time for that. Beyond these simple office effects we had a window that ran the length of the far wall, though nothing seemed to be on the other side except a hallway made of the same shitty gray metal that was currently holding me.

 _The fuck even is this place?_

Next my eyes wandered in the direction I'd come from. There was my open tank, steaming a little as its interior had been much warmer than the exterior. It sat as one of four, third from the left, and stood out as it was the only one that was open. The other three remained closed, and all contained a vaguely familiar silhouette. Pasty white skin, black hair swirling with the slight motions of the liquid, breathing tube leading up to the mouth… but also red. There was something red clouding the area around their heads.

I could see it clearly on one of them. They were slumped forward, their face pressed against the glass. Eyes were reddened, blood flowing from their sockets. It came from their ears as well. Brain hemorrhage? What a way to go…

It took a moment of terrified gawking for me to realize that these were clones of whatever I'd become.

" _Warning: This facility will self-destruct in_ _ **nine**_ _minutes. Please follow the floor lights to the shuttle bay for evacuation."_

With that, the primary lights dimmed slightly and allowed the tiny LEDs on the floor to show more clearly. They were switching in a pattern that suggested movement, leading my eyes out the door.

 _Yep. Sounds good._

No longer wanting to be in a morgue filled with people who looked like me, not to mention the whole oncoming destruction thing, I doubled my efforts in trying to escape. I suppose seeing multiple corpses that resembled me went a long way in kickstarting my adrenaline flow. My next attempt at standing found me able to gain enough balance to lurch over to the desk and hold myself up for a few seconds. Time to take stock. My legs felt like jello, I was still having to measure my breathing, my skin was still soaked in whatever they'd been keeping me in, and this room was colder than an ex-girlfriend's shoulder.

It was time to leave.

My first steps were weak, but I eventually settled into a hobble that got me to the door. I leaned against the frame and stuck my head out into the hallway to check for literally anyone or anything that might be around. It was only here that I realized that I hadn't seen or heard from a single person since waking up. The voice announcing my imminent doom didn't count, as it sounded synthesized in tone and modulation. Putting my ears to the air didn't reveal much either, the only thing sounding being the damn alarm.

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_ _Shit, that's obnoxious._

Luckily, with the utter lack of company, I didn't have to worry about being seen naked. I wasn't really worried about that anyway, seeing as I… well… really didn't have much to see. I just hobbled on in silence then, checking my corners just in case as I went. The floor lights made things easy enough. The only hard part was actually getting around. My body was in firm denial of its need to move, meaning that I was constantly aching and every twenty steps found me sucking air like a bloody mouth breather. Everything in me wanted to do nothing more than stop, lie down, and spend at least five minutes catching my breath.

" _Warning:_ _ **Eight**_ _minutes remaining until detonation."_

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_ The alarm was counting down the seconds.

Except my life was literally on a timer at the moment. I breathed a few more curses as the PA voice rattled off some protocols about procedure and order of staff. Considering that I didn't see any staff around, I ignored it and continued to follow the lights. Where the hell was everyone? Had they already evacuated? I felt like I should've seen at least one person by this point, if only because they should be checking for stragglers.

Moving on, the continued journey was… I don't want to say 'agonizing', but it really was shitty. My head was spinning. I had no answers, no explanation, not even a familiar setting to seek comfort in. Instead I was stuck as a… _guh_ , I was short on breath and stamina, freezing to fucking death because I was in too much of a rush to look for clothes, and the place I was in was pretty goddamn certain that it was about explode and engulf me in hot nuclear death!

I passed into another hallway, this one containing another windowed room like the one I'd come out of. Still nervous about being seen, I stopped at the edge of the window and peeked in.

Regret was my initial reaction. Then it became shock and curiosity.

"...What the fuck?" I spoke. The words came out in a pained, breathy voice that definitely wasn't mine, but I spoke them nonetheless. I had no other way to react to what I saw through that window.

The room was quite similar to the one I'd woken up in, except it looked like there had been a bit more traffic within and through it at various points. There were more desks, more consoles, and eight tanks instead of four. One thing this room possessed that mine had utterly lacked, however, was people. Seven people, in fact.

Seven _dead_ people.

Three of the eight tanks were open, the other five resembling the unopened three from mine. From what I could see, it looked like the people closest to each open tank had been security guards or something. They were dressed in jumpsuits rather than the lab coats their fellows were wearing, pegging them as different. Aside from that, it was hard to tell exactly what happened. Those remaining didn't appear to have come out of the tanks, so the most likely assumption was that whoever or _whatever_ had been released had done the killing. The guards had no guns, but it definitely looked like shooting had occurred. Had they been overpowered and lost their guns? That'd mean...

They'd been killed… _murdered_ , and…

I slowly looked down. Somehow I'd missed the fact that there were bloody prints leading out of the room. Some were those of boots and shoes, others of bare feet, all headed in the same direction the lights were leading me.

 _Shit! Where's the killer? Or is it killers? Am I going to have to go after them?_

" _Warning:_ _ **Seven**_ _minutes remaining until detonation."_

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_

My feet begged my body to comply and moved me away from the sight before I could look too closely at the bodies. I needed out of the place, now for more than just the reasons of cold and impending doom.

I didn't make it very far though. I froze in terror as I reached the trail of bloody footfalls. My mind raced at the very idea of going that way. What if they were still there? Would they kill me too?

" _Notice: Evacuation shuttle has departed._ _Those remaining, p_ _lease follow the floor lights to the escape pod bay for immediate evacuation."_

I was dragged back into the moment by this. It was rather surprising to hear that since it implied that whoever had been here and hadn't been murdered, _id est: the killers_ , managed to get away. I mean, it made sense. Murderer or not, the place was still primed to blow. Just… huh… Something was missing.

 _What if it was someone running away from the killers and they're still here with you?_

"Guh…" I lurched at the thought.

My mind eventually tumbled back to what the announcement had said. The escape floor lights changed direction and began leading me the way I'd just come from.

I was not amused, having no other choice than to simply cover my eyes as I passed by the window again. Thankfully the next turn was down a completely new corridor, this one clearly labeled 'Crew Quarters' and thankfully devoid of windows. There were several doorways, two of which had signs indicating that they were restrooms. After that things got even more clear. According to the plates on the walls, these were dorms, a cafeteria, some offices, and even a lounge. All the doors were open due to the emergency, revealing every room to be empty. I couldn't resist a quick glance around through the empty hallways. _What's a_ _Crew Quarters_ _without any_ _crew_ _?_ It'd make sense to have the escape pods nearby a place like this though. If everyone was powered down in their beds for the night and disaster struck, then escape needed to be close by.

…

 _Wait a sec._

That thought finally managed to hit me over the head with some sense. Escape pods… That was sci-fi shit. So were cold metal hallways, dead people in tanks, waking up in different bodies, self-destruct sequences, and _that's sci-fi bullshit! What the unholy fuck is going on?!_

" _Warning:_ _ **Six**_ _minutes until detonation."_

"I fucking know!" I screamed at the voice. _Ow! Throat!_

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_

"Aragh! Shut up!" _Fuck!_

That one got me coughing, and by 'coughing' I mean 'violently and painfully firing gas out of my lungs whilst gagging'. Every convulsion of air through my body made my throat scream, my eyes sting with tears, my muscles contract, my joints shudder. I fell onto my hands and knees as bile spilled onto the floor, burning my throat and making me want to scream more. I didn't though, if only because I knew that would cause the process to repeat. I vomited in silence before falling onto my side, a sniffling, whimpering mess.

Escape could wait. I needed a fucking moment.

 _...Shit that stinks._

The moment ended all too quickly as I nearly gagged at the smell. This turned out to be a good thing though, as it reminded me that time was still ticking.

" _Warning:_ _ **Five**_ _minutes until detonation."_

 _Honk… Honk… Blockitoutblockitoutblockitout…_

Hoping that the pods were close, I forced myself to stand and returned to my hobbling. The lights led me around one last corner, and there it was. The light trails were converging on one last door here. There was just one problem. The door was open, and it had a trail of blood drips leading up to it. Just drips, like a small leak rather than a stream. They'd come from a hallway I hadn't used, ending with half of a bloody footprint at this last door's threshold.

"Ffffffuck…" I hissed under my breath as I refused to stop moving. My hobble turned into the shittiest Solid Snake impression ever, moving me forward at the most abysmal pace I'd ever proceeded with, but I didn't stop until I'd reached the door. The next several seconds were spent with a hand over my mouth, trying to keep my breath in check.

I'd been just about to look in when there was a sudden jolt of everything around me. My heart jumped into my throat as I cried out and collapsed to the floor again. I genuinely thought that had been the explosion going off.

" _Notice: First escape pod has been jettisoned. Only one escape pod remaining."_

That grabbed my attention. One pod remaining meant only one chance left to escape. Adrenaline centers firing again, I hurled myself up and stumbled into the room.

Alas, the announcement had been true. There were only two slots for escape pods, and only one of them was open for use. Looking through the remaining open hatch told me that this wasn't necessarily a design oversight or anything though. The pod was the size of a bus, easily capable of holding twenty people, maybe more. Looking around, I saw nobody else in the room. The blood trail led straight into the closed hatch, so it was safe to assume that whoever I'd followed in here hadn't decided to wait around.

My visual scan of the room revealed one more thing though, this being the rack of what I could only call space suits on the wall. They were colored dark gray and olive, and their thickness wasn't anywhere near what I imagined astronauts to wear. Thus I registered their presence as a further example of sci-fi bullshit. This thought made me hesitate. Then I remembered that I was naked and cold and _oh my god clothes!_ I'd never been more glad to see sci-fi bullshit in my life.

I wasted no time in heading over and pulling one off the rack. It was heavier than I'd have liked, and it had to be two sizes bigger than me, but I managed to scramble in and zip it up regardless. _Oh, it's nice and warm! Hallelujah!_ The extra size may have even been a blessing in disguise as it allowed me to slip my new hair into it without much trouble. Seeing as said hair was starting to dry out and frizz up, not to mention I might've puked on it at some point, it was nice not to have to worry about it now that I was so close to escaping. I just had to press it down and _wait… What?_

There was something on the back of my neck. My brain flashed back to when I was still in the tank. I'd tried to look up and something had zapped me back there Was this it? I obviously couldn't see it, but it was definitely there, right where my neck met my back. It was plastic, I felt, and there were divots in it like an electrical outlet. Had something been plugged into me? I recalled the moment when the jolts had stopped, it being because something had pulled off _or out_ of me and sent a ripple through my nerves. I'd promptly forgotten about it as things continued to get worse and worse for me in that moment, but now here it was again, meaning I had to ask myself a very important question.

 _Do I have a jack in the back of my head?_

My mouth opened, but nothing came out.

 _Honk… Blockitout… Blockitout…_

I reached back and touched it again. The thing was still there, not having moved or altered in any way.

"...Whoa."

The sound of me slapping myself in the face echoed through the room.

" _Warning:_ _ **Four**_ _minutes until detonation."_

"The fuck am I doing?" I muttered before grabbing the suit's helmet and shoving it over my head.

There was a brief instance of further muttered cursing as I found myself plunged into darkness within the helmet's confines. I'd neglected to notice before donning the piece that it didn't have a visor, viewport, or anything else to aid in establishing a direct line of sight. Before I could tear the thing off and throw it against the wall, the room suddenly reappeared before me. Once I'd gotten over the initial surprise, I couldn't help but approve. Who needs direct line of sight when you've got live HD video streaming your surroundings right to your face? The display was easy on the eyes too, meaning that I didn't have to squint at it.

With that established, I was now suited up. This left only one thing to do. I turned to face the open hatch, the other side of which held the confined spaces of the escape pod. Instinct told me to walk towards it, as did logic, but something within me hesitated. As I moved my legs and tried to take those few steps forward, my body turned back to lead. It was as if my mind had finally taken a moment and pulled the absurdity of my situation to the forefront. I ran through everything one last time. The tank, my body, the cold, the hallways, the alarm, the murder scene, the jack, and now…

 _Is this even real?_

It was an odd and surreal moment.

 _Honk… Honk… Shutupfortheloveofgodshutthefuckup…_

Grimacing, I forced myself to walk forward and enter the escape pod. I crossed its threshold, sucking in a deep breath as I suddenly felt just the tiniest bit claustrophobic.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to four…_

The hatch slammed shut behind me with a mechanical screech, the lights in the pod going out immediately after.

 _Make it count to eight… son of a bitch… don't make me go to twelve…_

" _Notice: All remaining personnel have boarded final escape pod. Rerouting Escape Pod Two to its own power supply."_

 _...exhale. Thank god._

A few seconds passed in the darkness.

 _Honk… Honk… Honk…_

I knew that I'd probably imagined those, but a scream was let loose anyway. More coughing ensued.

* * *

 **So here it is. I've been working on this for quite a while now, and the time has finally come to post it. Strangely enough, now that we're here, I'm not sure what to say. It's a big deal to me. I haven't worked this hard on a story in ages, and I hope you all like it as much as I've liked making it.**

 **Speaking of working on this, a huge _huge HUGE_ shoutout to the spectacular storysmith that is Katkiller-V. He's been heavily supportive of this story from the get-go, going so far as to serve as beta. If you haven't read his _Another Realm_ Mass Effect series, I can't recommend it enough. It served as the primary inspiration for me writing this, and I'd be glad if people thought of my story as being at least half as good as it. Here's hoping...**

 **One last thing. If you liked this story and leave a review telling me that, it's going to make me want to keep making it. Just keep that in mind. Even if you didn't like it and have criticism to impart, leave a review and impart it. I want to learn from this. I want to hear what you thought, whether it's good or bad or somewhere in between. I want to know what you the readers think. No reviews makes me think people aren't interested, and that's the worst thing a writer can feel.**

 **On that note, I've been The Blocked Writer, and... Shit. Does this mean I'm _Unblocked_ now?**


	2. 1-2 Take it Easy

**I continue to not own Mass Effect.**

* * *

 _ **Awake**_

" _Take it Easy_ _"_

* * *

 _Breathe… Dammit, you use your lungs and you breathe! I don't care if you're having a panic attack, you need to fucking breathe!_

Stuck on my hands and knees for the third or fourth time in the last ten minutes, I sucked in another harsh gasp of air. Tears now decorated the display of the helmet's viewscreen.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale._

The escape pod's lights did eventually come back on, albeit dimmer than they had been. That served as a trigger to get me back into the moment, cuing another deep breath as I rose to my knees and arched backwards to face the ceiling. The sudden stretch got my nerves firing, the last echoes of the painful stiffness finally shaking off.

" _Warning:_ _ **Three**_ _minutes until detonation."_

I sniffled hard as I pushed myself to my feet and proceeded to the front of the pod. It was laid out like a bus, with multiple seats on either side of a long aisle. Add to this the fact that there had been another one of these, and it briefly got me wondering who the hell was supposed to be sitting here. If you took me and all of the dead people I'd seen getting here, you still wouldn't have been able to fully fill up one side of the aisle.

This was something to think about later though. For now I had to worry about the fact that there was no one around to fill the role of driver – nobody except for _me,_ that is. With explosive death still on the way, I slid myself into the front seat and grabbed the controls.

...and then I remembered that I had no idea what I was doing.

"Uhhh…" I droned as I realized that this thing didn't even have controls to grip. My hands had instead grasped the chair's armrests.

In lieu of a joystick or anything else that could've been construed to me as controls, the craft had a panel comprised of an orange and blue hologram with various shapes and statements on it. I stared at these for all of two seconds before realizing that I needed help.

 _The question is how to get it._

 _You could always just ask._

I blinked idly. That… sounded like a dumb idea. Unfortunately, dumb ideas were about all I had.

"Help?" I rasped. My voice hadn't improved at all since I'd first used it. The constant coughing fits and screaming probably weren't helping.

" _It appears that_ _you're trying to pilot this escape pod. Would you like_ _assistance_ _?"_ The synthesized voice was similar to the one from outside, but the fact that it wasn't spewing shit about impending doom told me that it might be local to the pod.

"Yes! I don't know how to drive this thing!"

" _Emergency evacuation protocols are engaged and all remaining personnel have boarded. Autopilot options are available. Would you like to-"_

"Yes!"

" _-engage-"_

"Yes!"

" _-autopilot?"_

"Yes!"

Another round of coughing was fought back. It smelled bad enough inside this helmet without me blowing another round of phlegm into it. Had I not developed an odd feeling like I'd need the thing in the near future, then I'd probably have already taken it off.

" _Voice command accepted. Autopilot engaged. Launch sequence initiated. Attention: Please make sure that your restraints are in place."_

I was already working on strapping myself in as this was said. I briefly pondered moving to one of the passenger seats, as they had what appeared to be those pull-down rollercoaster restraints while my driver's seat had a more conventional six-point seat belt. It still held me in nice and snug, but a tiny feeling the back of my head told me that it wasn't nearly as safe. Then another tiny feeling jumped in and told me that I probably wasn't going to be safe no matter where I was sitting, so I might as well stay still and let things get going.

" _Moving into airlock."_

On that note, the pod began to shift. We moved forward, and my eyes became glued to the black viewport in front of me. I was waiting to see what was on the other side. I mean, somewhere, maybe deep within the cockles of my heart, I knew what it was going to be. They didn't have escape pods on the ground. They typically didn't have airlocks either. Nope. With all the sci-fi bullshit I'd been through in the last seven-and-a-half-minutes, there was only one good explanation.

" _Closing interior airlock."_

Some metal shifted and clanged around us.

" _Cycling."_

There was slight shake.

" _Opening exterior airlock."_

The viewport ceased being just black. From the center two slabs of metal pulled apart, revealing a sea of stars.

My breath left me.

 _Space…_

" _Launching."_

The machine didn't need to hesitate. It knew what it had to do, and that was get its contents as far away from the detonation as possible. Thus the launch was very much one of urgency. Instead of just pushing off and floating us off into the weightlessness of outer space, we were blasted off with enough of a jolt to churn my stomach and throw my head back against the seat. We flew into the stars, thrusters alight and flight console dazzling with live status readouts.

" _Warning:_ _ **Two**_ _minutes remaining until detonation."_

 _Still keeping up with that?_

 _Honk… You'reimaginingthat… Stop…_

A matter of seconds passed, after which I stopped feeling pressed down by the g-forces. In fact, I felt rather… _lightheaded…_

 _Stomach rising… eyes crossing… HELMET OFF._

I'd just barely removed the thing before turning my head and gagging ferociously. No bile this time, but I did have to spit. It was a loose, limp loogy, meaning that it should've just dripped down and dribbled onto the ground. Instead it floated in the air before me, undulating as the force I'd applied to it moved back and forth through its semi-fluid form. For better or worse, my stomach settled a little as I became mesmerized by what I was witnessing.

Ladies and gentlemen, zero gravity. As if I needed any more reinforcement for the fact that I was currently in outer space.

Unfortunately the moment was ruined by the reality of a renegade ball of spit hurtling around dangerously close to my head. I scowled before 'grabbing' it with my space suit hand and wiping it on the other side of my seat.

 _Gross._

" _Minimal safe distance has been reached."_ I straightened as the voice returned. " _Distress beacon has been activated. Thrusters deactivated. This pod will continue to drift away from the facility until further direction has been given."_

A relieved sigh escaped me at this news. I sagged in the chair, letting myself gaze out into the celestial ocean for a moment. I struggled to believe what this meant. I'd escaped… right?

"Are we safe?" I asked, whispering to avoid hurting my throat anymore.

" _This pod is equipped with considerably heavy shielding and armor. The blast from the facility's self-destruction sequence should not produce sufficient debris to cause damage."_

I sagged a little more. "Thank god."

My eyes closed, and I let myself drift a little. With nothing immediately life-threatening to worry about, the adrenaline that had kept me going over the last several minutes began to die down. The stars twinkled in my blurred vision as I slouched against the restraints. The aches and pains from earlier caught up with me, as did the baggage of my long term situation.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. You still don't have any answers. Inhale… count to four… exhale. You're still in the weird body. Inhale… count to eight… throat still hurts… exhale. Also you're drifting in space. Might wanna find civilization before you run out of air or some shit. Inhale… count to twelve… hungry… thirsty… exhale. Inhale… count to four… exhale. Get fucked, panic._

One final deep breath to clear my head and I rose again. Inner me was right. _Survive now. Worry about your new array of bizarre personal problems later._

"Uh… Computer?" I didn't know how else to summon it.

" _Awaiting instructions."_

"Where are we?"

" _We are currently on an aimless course, drifting away from the planet Neith."_

My mouth hung open for a little while upon hearing that answer. The planet _what?_ _Probably shouldn't think too hard about it._

"O...kay? I don't suppose we can get to Earth from here, can we?"

" _Earth is currently outside of our operational range."_

"Oh…" I offered blankly, huffing internally. _Should've seen that coming._

Fortunately my mind was moving faster than I'd give it credit for in search of alternate possibilities.

"What about this planet?" I inquired further. I think my throat was finally getting used to the act of speaking. I still sounded pretty bad, with the words coming out raspy and quiet, but it was better than nothing. "Why are we going away from it? Can we not land there?"

" _Landing on Neith is not recommended. Due to a lack of resources and a temperature hazard, the surface is considered uninhabitable by common galactic standards."_

That one got my gears going a little quicker. 'Galactic standards' implied that the economy here was based on a galaxy-wide scale. This gave me something to work with, particularly if I compared it to Star Wars. Maybe this place was like Star Wars and I could use my knowledge from it to try and navigate myself through it.

...This is the part where you chuckle at the irony or whatever. Feel free. I'll be the first admit that me comparing things to Star Wars here was very much my mind refusing to acknowledge that it was totally out of its depth.

"Any alternative destinations?"

" _Standard escape pod protocols dictate that, after the facility's destruction has passed, we are to remain in the vicinity and await retrieval by rescue teams."_

I perked up at this. That sounded particularly promising in terms of survival.

"How long is that estimated to take?"

" _The facility's primary reactor is set to detonate in approximately_ _ **twenty-seven**_ _seconds."_

"Shit." I reacted negatively to the news. "Are we far away enough?"

" _Predictive data indicates that the detonation that is to occur will not affect us at this range."_

 _Right. We reached minimal safe distance a while earlier, so duh._

"Alright, but what about the rescue?"

" _The arrival of rescue operations is estimated to take anywhere from twelve to forty-eight hours."_

"Forty-eighHACK!" _Ow. Control yourself, dammit._ Another deep breath. "Tell me this thing has supplies or something on board."

" _There are various survival goods located in the storage compartment located under the main aisle."_

Hearing this, I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood. Well… I _tried_ to stand. Instead I pushed off from the chair and propelled myself headfirst into the pod's ceiling. Fortunately the lack of weight behind my movement made the impact hurt less than it could've. My ego, on the other hand…

 _Stupid zero gravity…_

" _Facility detonation occurring… Detonation complete. All signals from the facility have ceased broadcasting. Self-destruct sequence successful."_

 _Honk… Boom… Fuckyou..._

Just as the computer had said, the detonation didn't appear to have an affect on us in any way. No shockwave, no debris, no further comments on its status. Thus I was able to continue with my retrieval of munchies with little more than a 'good riddance'.

Maneuvering in a weightless environment was surprisingly difficult. Being a swimmer by nature, I'll admit to trying to swim my way through the air. This, as most of you probably could've told me before I tried, was utterly ineffective. It ultimately took me kicking off the nearest surface, which just happened to be the viewport, and tossing myself towards the aisle. In the floor there was a plainly visible hatch. The hard part was stopping there and not sliding along the aisle like a shuffleboard puck. A little effort, primarily in the form of latching onto the chairs and using them like ladder rungs, and I was able to reach the hatch and remove the cover.

 _Jackpot!_ Inside was a veritable plethora of goods. Food, drink, differently labeled food, differently labeled drink, blankets, and even a ball with a blinking orange light. I wasn't sure what that last one was for, but it still almost felt like Christmas.

"Well, at least I won't starve," I mumbled as I held one of the multitude of blocky bars that were simply labeled 'ration' in English, French, Spanish, and what I assumed to be Chinese. I pulled it out along with a bottle labeled 'drink' before making my way back to the pilot's chair. A little work and I was buckled back in and free to try and dissect my first ever zero-g meal.

" _Are there any additional queries or commands?"_

I looked up, as that was the direction it felt like the voice was coming from. "No. I think I'm good for now."

It didn't respond, leaving me sitting there waiting for a few seconds before I realized that it was probably exactly what I'd been referring to it as, _a computer_. It wasn't a real person. It didn't actually care if I had additional queries or commands. It was just programmed to speak up and remind me as some sort of catch-all 'just in case' protocol. This all assumed that it wasn't an AI, which wouldn't have made much sense, even to my out-of-depth mind.

Instead of bothering with the thing any further, I instead tore open the food bar and examined it. It appeared to be some kind of biscuit, bland in both color and texture. To say it looked appetizing at all would've been a stretch, but then I was astonishingly hungry for someone who'd spent about twenty percent of the last ten minutes coughing and gagging. Instincts taking hold, I bit into the bar. A chunk of it came back with me, and I offered it two chews before slowing to a stop.

My heart sank at the gritty texture and utter lack of flavor. A quiet sigh ebbed out of my nose as my face curled into a forlorn expression.

 _This sucks._

 _Honk… Honk… Holyshityoureallyareimaginingthat…_

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to eight… swallow your food… exhale._

A quick shake of my head put me back in the moment. Next came trying the drink, which I named 'tang' because 'drink' was too broad. It wasn't great, tasting like some cheap Sunny-D knockoff. At least it seemed designed to work in zero-g, meaning that it wasn't floating up and out the straw when I wasn't actively drinking it, and it didn't feel like it was drying me out, so I took those as wins and went on eating the shitty excuse for a meal. For better or worse, the bar was so full of… whatever-it-was-made-of that it wound up feeling rather filling. In that moment I found my mood moving up from 'agitated and afraid' to 'calmed and somewhat content'.

That moment being minutes one and two of my time in the escape pod post-explosion.

 _Two minutes down. Potentially two-thousand and eight-hundred-something minutes to go._

I converted hours to minutes as a way to pass the time.

There wasn't a ton to do, of that you can be certain. The supplies consisted of little more than food, and I wasn't exactly feeling the need to pig out at the moment. The computer in this thing wasn't exactly a conversationalist. At first I thought that I might be able to ask it anything, but it turns out that this was only an illusion. It was only privy to local navigational data as relayed by some kind of local probe network or some such sci-fi bullshit. Outside of that it was only available to answer questions about the pod and some asinine set of regulations. It could tell me exactly who to defer to for more information, not that Chief of Security Curtis Gibson was around to actually be of any help.

The computer also didn't have games or music. Yes, I asked. It told me to ' _defer to my own personal computational device for such affairs'_ , which only served to make me miss my collection of various electronics.

My mind floated from subject to subject, mostly gaming related stuff at first. I thought about what I'd been doing recently. _Killing Floor 2 was cool. I think I was going to play it this morning…_ I thought about what I'd been interrupted in. _Another day, another excuse to not play Dark Souls. I'll never finish it at this rate._ I thought about what I'd been excited for coming up. _Breath of the Wild. Breath of the Wild? Breath of the Wild!_

I did a little progressive thinking towards the idea for the game I wanted to make. _Still can't make up my mind between a_ _violent_ _hack-and-slash or an adventure style dungeon crawler. Ninja Gaiden or Legend of Zelda. Come on, man. Pick one and roll with it._

I took some time to dig through the supplies again, this time finding a pack of towels. While most of it had evaporated into a dubious smelling vapor inside of the space suit, I was able to dry the rest of the tank fluid off of me. It was a little awkward, with this serving as something of a primer for the more intimate parts of my new body.

 _Why the hell do I have breasts? Seriously! What purpose do these serve?! They're not very sizable, so that can't be the reason. They don't have_ _nips_ _, so that's… yeah. That's in line with the lack of… other… hardware…_ _ _No, seriously, where the hell is my little guy? If I can't have it, why can't I have the other thing? Not having either is just… like…__ _ _Am I even human? I think I am, but… What the hell am I even doing with this shit?__

 _You're_ _think_ _ing_ _too hard about it_ _is what you're doing_ _._ _Here's a suggestion: Don't! Yeah, i_ _t's weird. It's really weird. It's fucked up, even. It'll make you mad. You're a man in a woman-ish body. You're all for freedom of gender and expression, but you're a man and you always have been. You don't like that you're missing important body parts. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? You can never remember._

 _I can never remember… what? Stupid shitty attention span…_

 _Change the subject. Don't think about the body. It's just a prop for your brain. Nobody cares what it looks like. Nobody cares what it's gained or what it's missing. Hell, it's doubtful that anyone even knows except for you. I mean, that station blew up, right? All the people were dead. Murdered…_

Fifteen minutes since the explosion according to a small clock on the pilot's dashboard.

 _...Wait. Would the murderer_ _s even_ _know about me? I mean, if it was just the people who'd been in those pods, and they were anything like me, I considered it doubtful. What if one of the lab coats was controlling them or something though. A scientist involved in whatever had been going on there would be much more likely to know what was up._

 _Think about it. Let's start with the_ _murder_ _room. Three_ _tanks_ _were open out of eight total. The opening seemed planned. All of the people I saw_ _on the station_ _were in there, suggesting an intentional gathering. Were they viewing results? Why just three_ _subjects released_ _then? Maybe they were the only three complete. Why have the security personnel there? Did they not trust what they were letting out? For good reason, considering they all ended up dead. That suggests they were overpowered by the released ones. Seems possible, but… If guards were there, then they should've been ready. If the_ _tank_ _people were anything like me, then they would've been disoriented, not ready to kill. The guards,_ _on the other hand…_

Thirty minutes since the explosion.

 _Betrayal from within? Makes more sense. Multiple types_ _of_ _bloody prints coming out of the room. Blood on their feet suggests that they had to walk through it, implying that the bleeding had been done while they remained. Runners would've gotten out sooner. If two, maybe three security guards were there aside from the dead ones, probably standing behind their comrades but in front of the scientists, then they could've easily shot the other guards from behind before turning around to deal with the likely defenseless lab coats. One of the guards may have even moved in front of the door to keep anyone from getting away. If I could just recall how the bodies were laid out…_

I felt a lurch in my stomach as I foolishly attempted to the more clearly envision the murder scene. Probably didn't help that I was currently upside down relative to the pod, hovering above the aisle like a fucking bat.

Forty-five minutes since the explosion.

 _Next question! Two questions, actually. Who took the evac shuttle? Who took the other escape pod? Don't know much about the shuttle, other than those prints were probably headed that way. Maybe the blood leading to the escape pod had come from there. Why blood coming from there? A survivor? Unlikely. Too many people in the room to let anyone live. No drips coming from the room, only the prints. One of the conspirators then. A disagreement? What over? Morals? Maybe. Shooting friends in the back and then slaughtering civilians is pretty bogus. What other factors are there? Multiple types of print coming out of the murder room._ _The bare feet were those of the tank people. Everyone else would've been_ _in uniform. Guards in jumpsuits and scientists in lab coats… Guards are more militaristic, more likely to wear the same shoes as each other, boots maybe even. Stand-out shoes would've been a scientist's then. If a scientist was in on it…_

Seventy-five minutes since the explosion. I found myself wrapped around the mystery of that room. It was like an enigma, and I certainly didn't have anything better to do than dissect it with every ounce of criminal justice knowledge I possessed. All those years watching and playing procedurals and whodunits were finally coming to the forefront.

 _If the facility's purpose revolved around those pods, then it's likely some kind of scientific project. The scientists probably had the run of the place. Security guards willing to kill them, so the relationship between the two factions couldn't have been super friendly. If a scientist was_ _pulling the strings_ _, then maybe one of them had full respect, probably of both sides. Probably the lead scientist, head of the whole project. Why would he want to kill his contemporaries_ _though_ _? Maybe he didn't. Maybe he was forced or coerced. Lots of variables. Difficult to tell without further facts._

"Computer? Can you tell me who was in charge of the facility?"

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query."_

Two hours since the explosion. Converting hours to minutes got old fast. I drank another tang to calm my nerves.

 _Security clearance… If there was a focus on clearance, then it's possible that the staff was tiered. Who was I deferred to earlier? Chief of Security Whoever Thefuck? They were in charge of questions from lowlifes like me, almost like a filter for the higher-ups. Also a Security Chief sounds like a great choice to be in charge of who gets security clearance and who doesn't. So maybe they had the respect of the lesser half of the staff, or rather the lower tier. Who would've been in the lower tier though? Assuming that science was the main purpose of the station, then those nonessential to science would be considered less important than the scientists. If the security guards were ranked, then the higher ranks probably had higher clearance as well. So lower tier would be people like cooks, sanitation, logistics, technicians, maintenance, and lesser security. Another question is where were they while I was escaping?_

"Computer? Can you give the name of the specific person who outranked all others at the facility?" Maybe if I rephrased it...

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query. Chief of Security Gibson wishes all personnel to remain mindful of their position and not to misuse the station VI."_

 _The Chief of Security again. Not a Chief of Staff… Chief of Security had a high level of power on the station. Also what's a VI?_

 _Getting side-tracked. The point is that the best candidate for betraying the other scientists with the help of security guards would've been the head scientist. They would've been trusted by both the scientists and the security team, and, assuming they were head of the entire facility, they would've had the respect of the nonessential staff as well, at least on a 'follow their orders' basis. I saw no staff. Could they have been evacuated before the event? Why? Sure, it was a pretty bright move when you considered the exploding and all that, but where did they all go? Why kill the scientists and not them? Questions for later._

Three hours since the explosion. The compulsion to drink another tang, resisted due to limited supplies.

 _So the head scientist and the security officers kill the scientists and take the released subjects, presumably to escape on the shuttle. Remaining is the question of who was bleeding a trail to the escape pods. Bloody footprint at the door implies that it was one of the subjects. Were they alone? Was it someone else like me? Where did they come from? I didn't explore the whole facility. There could've been several parts I missed. Key pieces. Other pod rooms maybe. The crew quarters was clearly labeled, implying an emphasis on separation. Labeling the crew quarters so specifically also implied that there could be at least one other kind of quarters, perhaps one for the scientists, further backing up the tiered staff theory. The 'crew' would be the nonessential staff while the other would be scientists and higher security officers. If they… and whoever… huh…_

 _What?_

I shook myself awake, having completely zoned out without meaning to. _Where was I?_

 _..._

 _I have to pee._

Five hours since the explosion. The escape pod had a toilet, thank fuck. Fortunately whoever decided that I didn't need genitalia had made sure to leave the urethra intact. The pee was relatively clear, so at least I didn't have to worry about that.

 _Stupid fucking body… I mean, what even is this thing? What purpose could it possibly serve? Nobody looks like this! If I saw someone with skin this pale, I'd be certain that they were either sick or wearing makeup. Black hair? Why even have hair? I mean, let's look at the facts. Clearly, if there was any sense to be drawn from the fact that I'd been kept in suspended animation, it had to have something to do with this crazy fucking jack in the back of my head._ _The hair completely covers it from view_ _though!_ _What the fuck kind of sense does that make?_ _Right? Does that make sense to someone else?_

 _Who are you talking to?_

"Computer! Why do I have a jack in the back of my head?"

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query. Security has been alerted to your continuous attempts at breaking clearance. Please wait here and do not resist."_

"Fuck you too then." _He was so helpful earlier, too…_

 _Right before it released me, I felt something pull out from back there. I must've been plugged in. That's the only explanation I can think of. Think about it. Plugs in the back of the head. Does that remind you of anything? No, not skullfucking. The Matrix. What did they do in The Matrix? They had humans living in stasis while they drew power from their bodies or some shit, right? Never actually watched it. Should do that someday. Anyway, so…_

 _Was I in the Matrix?_

I paused, blinking and glaring daggers into the steel paneling I was floating past. Yep. That was me accidentally triggering an existential crisis.

To elaborate, I'm not a religious person. If anything, and this might make you sneer, I believe in the power of people. People are capable of anything if they're willing to get their shit together and work at it, and it's entirely up to those people what occurs in the world. That's not the point though. What's important is that I just had the thought that potentially my life wasn't my own. That is to say, I just realized the possibility that my life up until waking up in that tube had been a lie. It was the possibility that _everything up until this point was fabricated and pointless._ I didn't have the full story of course, and I still remembered said life, but… _Damn, dude._

I began breathing heavy, erratic breaths. I never was one for intense emotion, but damn if my chest didn't suddenly feel tight. My face squeezed into a grimace to end all grimaces. The feeling of dread and fear that just hit me was… well…

 _Oh my fucking god._

"...Huh?" I huffed into the pod, turning in search of someone, something, _anything_ to contradict what I was thinking. "Am I wrong?"

Getting nothing auditory, I reached back and touched the jack again. It was still there, no different from the last time.

"Computer!" I forgot what I was going to ask. "...What the fuck, man?!"

" _Sorry, but there is no relevant data for '_ What the fuck, man?' _. Please contact your-"_

I missed the rest when another coughing fit welled up in my throat. _Ow. Dammit! I thought I was done with that._

 _Inhale… count to eight… calm down… exhale. Inhale… count to eight… stop yelling at the computer… exhale._

No further progress was made by that train of thought. I let myself float around blankly for a few more minutes before looking at the clock again.

Six hours and eighteen minutes since the explosion. Specifically, the clock stated 23:51.

"Computer, what time is it in Morgan, Tennessee right now?"

" _In_ _Morgan_ _, Tennessee it is currently 5:5_ _1_ _PM."_

 _At least it still exists. Also that clock is six hours ahead, meaning it's on… What the hell do they call it? Coordinated Universal Time or something like that? Use of that reinforces the existence of things like Earth and_ _H_ _umanity and_ _its_ _history and blah blah blah._

 _The point is that_ _Morgan_ _still exists. That means not everything was a lie. Maybe none of it was a lie. Maybe I'm just overreacting and this is all one huge misunderstanding. Well… I mean, I'm definitely fucked up, but maybe those memories aren't fake. Maybe the jack and my head are completely unrelated. That's logically unlikely, but I think now's the time to have hope. Hope's good, right? Nobody ever got fucked over by hope. Not once in the entirety of human history did someone hope that they weren't utterly fucked and it turned out bad for them. No siree. Not once ever. That's just plain poppycock._

 _...You're losing it._

 _I know! Don't remind me!_

A few minutes passed. I sat as still as I could for someone unbound by the constraints of gravity.

 _Honk…_

I screamed again.

* * *

 **So yeah... This got out of hand rather quick.**

 **Huge thanks to all reviewers! I'm glad so many of you were able to find it interesting. The response has been overwhelming in terms of both positivity and quantity. Another massive shoutout to Katkiller-V, both for his abilities as a beta-reader and his ability to direct people.**

 **Review Responses:**

sly bandit: Thank you! I'm glad I could draw you in. I'll take that as a wonderful compliment.

Marcusss: I'm sure they would've loved to have been in a hurry, but the pain movement was causing them was forcing them to go slow. As for breaking the fourth wall, the intention here is that the narrator is telling the story long after the fact, probably to a close friend or some curious listener.

Calibans legacy: Unfortunately I'm not heavily familiar with the Foundation comics and likely won't (intentionally) be referencing them in this story.

Menschenblut: I've got a smattering of chapters finished already, though right now my plan is to update upon completion of whichever chapter I'm working on (currently cleaning up Chapter 6 while prepping Chapter 7). Hopefully this will give me a buffer to both keep chapters on the windowsill long enough to make sure they're edible and have something to post should I not manage to complete something in a reasonable amount of time (two weeks at the longest).

Cmitts93: I agree about the 'life in the previous world' thing. While it can be good for some genres, I felt like it would only harm this one. The point really isn't about the protagonist's old life.

Meatzman2: It was 'honk' or 'bamp', and I thought the latter sounded stupid.

GreaterGoodIreland: Strange is the idea, yes.


	3. 1-3 People Are Strange

"Back of the pod."

 _Swoosh!_

"Front of the pod."

* * *

 _ **Awake**_

" _People Are Strange"_

* * *

I suppose I should go ahead and admit that I was never the most stable guy around.

"Back…"

I wasn't… Shit, it's hard to explain. Let's just say that I was definitely _not_ insane.

"Front…"

I just kinda had my own way doing things. I'd like to think that a lot of people do.

"Back…"

It's just that my way of doing things tended to involve heavy doses of profanity and talking to myself. _The best privacy is in your own mind._

"Front…"

Oh, and sometimes I'd do things that made no sense. Just to prove that I could. It's a good substitute for self-actualization. Reminds you that you're still alive.

"Back…"

Sure, a lot of that talking was internal, but not always. Just believe me when I say that I could hold a conversation, possibly even an intense argument with a brick wall and be perfectly aware that what I was doing was nonsense.

"Front!"

It's just another way of coping.

"Back!"

Huh? What was I doing here?

"Front!"

This is me throwing myself back and forth from one end of the pod to the other. Practicing my zero gravity flip-turns, actually. Well… Less flipping, more touch-turn-and-go really. Hard to just flip without water.

"HuueeeACHTUNG!" That was a sneeze.

 _Thud!_ And that was my distracted head bouncing off the exit hatch.

Fourteen hours since the explosion. I was still sane… to a degree.

My vision eventually unblurred and I grabbed at the box of rags that had been hidden in the back of the supply cache. A swift exhale into it produced a trombone-like noise through the pod, after which I maneuvered over to the pod's biowaste bin and disposed of my third rag of the day. As it turns out, and this is something I recalled reading on the internet once, zero-g is prone to cause stuffy noses, which in turn made me sneeze like a fucking bazooka. Fortunately the pod was much more accommodating than I might've expected. It had everything except running water, which was good enough until I ultimately had to reintegrate into society. Then I'd need a hot shower and some deo, neither of which could be found on this drifting hunk of metal.

Until then…

"Lunch time!" I declared before grabbing my fourth food bar and eighth tang bottle since boarding. If I counted my first set as just a snack, then the one I ate at six and a half hours would've been dinner. The one I had at eleven hours would've been breakfast, since I slept and woke up between it and the previous. That made this lunch, and so I ate it as such.

Yes, that's right. I was eating lunch three hours after breakfast. Blame my old work schedule. Small breakfast, big lunch, eight-to-ten hours of work, then dinner.

 _A big lunch…_ I dwelled on the thought of a plate full of chicken wings and fries. I suppressed a growl at the image, wishing very much that I was sticking delicious chicken slathered in tangy barbeque sauce into my mouth rather than…

"You…" I grumbled at the half-eaten ration bar in my pale hand. "You're barely food at all. And you have failed me for the last time!"

I shoved the remainder of the bar into my mouth, smashing it between my jaws before eviscerating it with some lateral motion. I even went the extra mile and made feral animal noises as this occurred, just for shits and giggles.

Still sane… The paragon of rational thought and behavior, even.

My actions eventually found me floating idly above one of the seating rows. Crumbs of the ration bar bounced around my head and became stuck in the uncontrollable black mane that flowed around my head. Realizing this, watching as a tiny speck of bread stuck into some of the hairs drifting in front of my face, I began violently shaking my head. Every direction I could get it to go, I whipped the hair around like fire in a hurricane. Crumbs flew everywhere, bouncing around until they either wound up between the seats or became lodged in something else. A few cases found them sticking back to the hair, at which I decided to get busy scratching. I ran my fingers through the tangled locks, something I'd done a few times by this point, but didn't accomplish much. Then I shook some more, but it just turned into a vicious cycle of cleaning and getting dirty again.

It was enough to make me groan with agitation, and also gag because there was one part of the mane that had gotten vomit on it and smelled as such.

"Gaaaah-AHACK!" Again with the coughing. _Ow. Spit into rag. Dispose. Am I going to be doing that for the rest of my life or what?_

 _Maybe it'll stop if you quit screaming and moaning like a child every fifteen minutes._

 _Oi! Make me, bitch!_

That was when my hand flew up and slapped me across the face, leaving me stunned in silence. My mouth hung open, words dead in the back of my throat, and the pod was suddenly very quiet. It was like everything had gone still, even the scattered crumbs and errant droplets of spit. Had that actually just happened? From the outside, the answer was probably obvious. Of course it had. I'd just slapped myself, and a pinkish mark was starting to form on my right cheek. On the inside…

 _I didn't… I'm not… That was…_

 _Don't you feel like an idiot?_

 _Yeah… Wait! No!_

I laughed, only for my hands to shoot up and cover my mouth. My eyes widened as much as they could without popping out of my head.

 _I don't like this anymore._

 _You didn't like it begin with._

Still sane... not insane. Definitely not insane.

 _Did I ever tell you what the definition of insanity is?_

Another scream… Well… Maybe just a frightened yelp as I spastically fought to keep my thoughts on track. My throat had run its course on the screaming thing. I wasn't sure how many more of those I could do without permanently damaging my vocals. Assuming they hadn't already been fucked, that is. Words were still strained, volume was still quiet at best.

Fourteen hours and twelve minutes since the explosion, by the way.

"HueeSCHNELL!" _Blow nose. Dispose._

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to eight… gotta get out of here… exhale._

"Computer? Is there any way to know how close we are to being rescued?"

" _Depending on the reaction times of the team dispatched, recovery of this escape pod could take anywhere from twelve to forty-eight hours."_

 _The same figures as last time._

"And who will be 'recovering' us?"

" _The recovery team expected to respond to distress calls from this facility is comprised of a selection ex-military personnel and health care professionals. Rest assured, a specially prepared range of food and medical supplies will be available in some form. Until then, please remain calm and stay mindful of the pod's remaining supplies."_

I rolled my eyes. How helpful of it. The damn computer was perfectly pleasant whenever I asked questions regarding stuff that applied to the pod. Ask anything about the facility though…

"Are you sure you can't tell me who was running the facility?"

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query."_

 _Sigh… Do I even want to starting thinking about how shitty this is? Not the 'lost in space' thing. The shittiness of that is quite apparent and requires no deeper thought. Why can't I just know who ran the facility? Outside of the security chief, I've got nothing. No head scientist, no list of personnel, no backing company or government, and definitely no answers towards what they were doing._

"What was the purpose of the facility?"

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query. Warning: Severe punishment has been approved towards those who might endanger the safety of the operation."_

That was its response when I asked any one question for the fifth time. What can I say? I was stubborn.

 _I want answers, dammit!_

 _Did I ever tell you the definition of-_

 _Not now! Think about it. They don't want to me to know. Does the computer actually know who I am, or does it just register me as 'someone without clearance'?_

 _You could always just ask it._

 _Getting there!_

"Computer? What am I to you?"

" _Negative: You do not have the proper security clearance to know the answer to this query."_

"Oh, come on…" I grumbled at the lack of progress.

 _How can it not answer that? Is it because I'm… because I came out of the tank? That would seem logical. The other tank people looked pretty similar to me, and it isn't a stretch to say we'd stand out in a crowd. We could be easily marked by some sort of recognition system. On the other hand it could also simply be the fact that it had a database of people who were registered by clearance level, and me not being in it thus meant that it wouldn't answer anything it knew that was classified as a 'secret' or whatever._

Not sure where to go from there, I clenched my eyes, ground my teeth, and ran my fingers through my hair and across my scalp. For some reason, making this pained expression and massaging my head was supposed to make me feel better. It didn't, but at least I tried.

 _This is immensely frustrating._

 _No kidding. Maybe go back to the swimming practice?_

 _No. That was stupid._

 _You were doing it. That means you're stupid by extension._

"Ugh…" I scoffed before resigning myself to a moment of silence.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… What's that beeping noise?_

" _Incoming communications from unknown vessel."_

Fourteen hours and thirty-seven minutes since the explosion.

My head snapped towards the pilot's console. "What?"

Instead of the computer repeating itself, the speakers lit up with the telltale static of wireless communications.

" _This is the T_ _S_ _F Cross Sea to nearby lifeboat. Cross Sea to lifeboat. Is anybody on board?_ "

I stared at the console in borderline amazement as the woman's voice spoke. It was clearly a real person's voice and not a computer's, a fact that filled me with a swift onset of hope.

"Yes! Hello!" I all but shouted as I moved myself over to the console. The display had a slot that appeared to maybe be a placeholder for an image, presumably that of whoever was on the other side, except it only held the text 'AUDIO ONLY' at the moment.

" _Thank the spirits,_ " I heard the lady on the other side mumble through the line like it was some kind of oath. " _This is the Cross Sea. We're moving to retrieve you now. How many do you have on board?_ "

My face went from a glad smile to an awkward cringe in less than a second. It was gonna be _that kind of conversation_ , wasn't it? With the pleasant surprise being overridden by bad news. _Shit…_ She'd sounded really happy there for a second, probably glad that she'd arrived in time to save people.

" _We have a full delivery of supplies_ _for you_ _here with us, so we can hand out whatever your people need. Food, drink, medicine…"_

 _Oh god, don't make it harder for me._

"...There isn't anyone else. It's just me." I choked out. Somehow that particular truth had avoided me until this very moment. As far as I could confirm, I was the only survivor. "There was another escape pod, but I don't know what happened to it."

 _More like I purposely avoided asking the computer about it because I didn't want anything to do with whoever was inside._

The other side was silent for several moments, only coming back to life when a sequence of bickering started up in the background. I couldn't make out the whole of it, but it was easy to assume that someone wasn't all that happy with the news.

A moment passed before anything more was said to me. " _Hang tight. We're bringing you in._ " It was the same voice as before, but the disappointment in their tone was extremely evident. I had to fight back some emotion as I felt my heart sink. This was going to suck. Even if it wound up ensuring my survival, this was going to be a decidedly unpleasant experience.

" _Communications line disconnected. Notice: This escape pod has been picked up by a tractor beam and is being towed. Please remain calm and stay seated during this process."_

My mind having been cleared, I turned around to address the rest of the pod for a moment. It was… well… a mess. The supply stash was leaking many of its items, my space suit and helmet were strewn to the corners of the craft, and there were crumbs _fucking everywhere._ Oh, and I was about to be rescued by some sad people and _oh shit I'm not wearing clothes! Fix that! Fix it now!_

Panic centers firing on all cylinders, I rapidly reclaimed the space suit and threw myself into it. The hair barely managed to tuck in, having gotten even drier and frizzier since the previous round, but I managed to contain it. The only reason I hadn't cut it was because the damn pod didn't have scissors. Or any other bladed object actually. Probably for the best. Isolation and sharp objects tended not to mix very well.

...What was I talking about?

" _Notice: The ship currently recovering this pod is not registered as belonging to the dispatched rescue team. All personnel are advised to follow the advice of the highest ranking team member in accompaniment. If there are no team members of significant rank_ _on board_ _, then you are advised to be mindful of your words in unauthorized company. Remember to follow protocol, and get in contact with your dispatch point when possible."_

I couldn't help but stop and stare at the console as this message played. _That was… disturbing? Right?_

 _Definitely._

Getting back to work, I grabbed the helmet and pulled it on. Didn't want the first impression my rescuers got of me to be some pale kid with a stuffy nose. At least if I had the helmet on then it'd look like I was trying to be spacey.

 _That's not a thing._

 _This is sci-fi. 'Spacey' is practically the new 'normal'._

 _No, it's not. 'Normal' is 'normal', and you're an idiot._

 _Yeah, well… Shut up._

 _We're doomed._

That was the exact thought that passed through my head as the viewport suddenly got dark. The stars vanished behind the shadow of a metal bulkhead, the only thing inside of which were a few red emergency lights.

 _Honk…_

I turned away and shut off my brain for a second. The time to stabilize had come. Social interaction would be required up ahead, and like hell if I was gonna act like an idiot in front of my first new space friends.

 _Friends? That sounds awfully presumptuous. What if they kill you? What if they're aliens? What if they actually work for the facility and they're here to pacify you? They could stick you back in the tank. This whole thing could be a setup._

An exasperated sigh escaped me.

 _Thanks for that. Could've done without the sudden onset of paranoia._

 _Just doing my job._

 _Don't you have an 'off' switch?_

 _Wouldn't you like to know?_

A slight groan born of worry sounded through the cab.

Before my inner thoughts could serve to bother me further, a loud clang exploded and the entire craft shuddered around me. I clenched in fear, letting out the tiniest of shrill noises. Seeing the room shake around you while you're stuck floating in zero-g is a _very_ disconcerting moment, in case you were wondering. Fortunately this didn't last long, as two seconds later found me focusing on something else. Can you guess what it was? If you guessed 'pain', you might be catching on.

"God… dammit…" I muttered as I lay motionless on the floor.

Gravity, ladies and gentlemen. Precious gravity had returned to the pod, and I'd been floating closer to the ceiling. Luckily I'd landed in the aisle and not folded myself backwards over a chair or something. All of the loose supplies and stuff had fallen as well, and I was quick to slip what I could back into the cache and move the panel back over it before anyone saw. The crumbs had all but disappeared into the annals of the floor, as crumbs were apt to do while under the effects of gravity.

 _Newton's Nth Law: Gravity's a tricky bitch._ This as I cracked my neck to try and loosen my shoulders.

 _Didn't the computer tell you to sit down a minute ago?_

 _Can't sit down in zero-g._

 _You can if you buckle up._

 _...I hate you._

" _Exterior connection detected."_

I perked up.

" _Hello?_ " It was the same voice as before. " _Can you hear me in there? We're about to open the door. Just sit tight. You'll be free soon._ "

"...Okay," I said after a moment's hesitation, not certain if they could even hear me on the other side.

 _Okay. This is it. Time to interact with people again. Just ignore the butterflies in your gut. They can only distract us from our purpose. What purpose is that? Simple. Continue surviving. If they try to kill you, then… well…_

 _Maybe they won't try to kill me? That'd be nice._

 _Optimism? Bleh…_

On that note, a red light came on at the pod's rear. The hatch was now lit, with a panel by it ticking off some figures.

 _Remember to breath. Inhale… count to four… exhale._

There was a metallic shift. Parts of the hatch came undone.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to- Shit, it's opening._

The hatch rose, and just like that I went from controlling my breathing to not breathing at all.

 _...Aliens._

 _Told you so._

There were three of them, specifically. Three individuals from what I could only assume to be three different species.

 _Optimismoptimismoptimism…_

The frontmost was more significant than its fellows as it was both the tallest and most frightening. It walked on two legs and seemed to have its own versions of human body parts, but beyond that it was anything _but_ a human. The face in particular was a source of intimidation. It looked like they were wearing a black mask with white tribal markings on it. On top of that their reddish brown eyes were locked onto me, giving me in the impression of a harsh glare.

"Huh… You weren't lying. It's just you, isn't it?"

That may have just been the way their face was defaultly stuck though, seeing as the mask moved when words came out of them. That is to say it wasn't a mask at all. It was just their face.

I flinched a little as I realized their voice had been the one speaking to me through the communicator. Just as I'd expected, they sounded disappointed. That wasn't why I flinched though. There was something odd coming to me as they spoke. It hadn't occurred through the comm, but in person it was plain as day. They weren't speaking English, a fact that made sense the instant I noticed it, but English was being piped into my ears anyway as I picked up their words.

"You alright?"

I didn't register the question, instead laser-pointed on examining them. I needed to fully process them as a person before I could be comfortable speaking. _The side_ _s_ _of their mouth moves outwards as they speak. A wide collar to their shirt, big enough to notice but not enough to be obtrusive. Two fingers, single thumb, fingerless gloves, clawed nails exposed, potentially for use as talons. Digitigrade feet, two major toes, albeit booted. Left hand on their hip. It's touching something on its belt. Is that…_

 _Shit!_

I must've regained my breath somewhere in the middle of all that, and I only say that because I lost it again when I noticed something about the alien's posture. It's left hand was very clearly fingering a holstered pistol. My eyes locked onto it, and then any and all illusion of safety vanished. Next thing I knew, my feet were shuffling me backwards. My breathing became erratic, and I could hear my heart drumming in my ears.

 _Inhale… count to four… ringing in my ears, don't look at the gun… Focus. Inhale… count to four... can't focus, aliens, can't look away from the gun it's still coming at you… No. Focus. Inhale… count to two… the facility the murders the scientists Honk Security Chief Curtis Gibson… Am I even breathing? Inhale… count to aliens guns cold pale strange body where are you right now where am I who what when where why how?_

My body trembled. I felt ice in my blood… and then I shut my eyes.

* * *

 **Audio transcript and video from surveillance system; T'Shin-Fordolo _Cross Sea_ ; Cargo Container 1:**

 _(an audible thud resounds through the bay)_

 _Volus technician: (looking into the retrieved Model-4ET2 lifeboat) Uh-oh._

 _Salarian medic: (worried) Cia? What did you do? (entering the lifeboat, leaving camera line-of-sight)_

 _Turian security: (from lifeboat interior) Nothing! I just walked in and..._

 _Salarian: You had your hand on your gun, didn't you?_

 _Turian: I…_

 _Salarian: Human, female, in shock. Cia, there are emergency packs for humans in the medical crate. Find it, quickly!_

* * *

You ever wake up and think that you're safe? Feels good, doesn't it? You're warm, comfortably wrapped in your bedding like a happy little burrito. Your phone clicks on and starts playing Dream Theater's "6:00" because you think it's clever. Whatever dream you were having passes into repression, and now it's time to get up and find some breakfast. Maybe a warm shower first though. Or maybe not. Maybe a rousing round of games instead. What to play? Killing Floor? Dark Souls? Maybe something less intense… like Splatoon!

I instinctively threw my eyes open, ready to rev up the old Wii U and ink about.

The only problem was that there was no Wii U. There was no Splatoon. I wasn't in my bed. I wasn't in my bedroom. I wasn't even in my house. I was in another room of cold metal, once again waking up with no idea why or how I was there. Then all the memories pertaining to the last day or so returned, and I immediately had to go into safe mode to complete my reboot.

 _Breathe. Inhale… count to four… exhale. The password is 'turnip'._

The only luck I had concerned the observation lights sitting overhead, as they were currently switched off. The room was still perfectly lit, but my eyes weren't begging for a swift death. If I can't call that luck, I don't know what else there is.

My mouth opened, lungs taking in a smooth, deep breath. I felt my chest expand and contract with the action. I was breathing, I was alive…

...and I was warm.

My eyes and neck worked in slow tandem to pass a glance towards what of me resided below the chin. Apparently I hadn't imagined the bedding thing. My body was wrapped in blankets, tucked in for maximum comfort. This made sense. Somewhere in the annals of my head I knew that part of keeping a shock victim alive was getting them warm. Looking closer, I could see that one of the blankets in use was the one from the escape pod. How practical of them.

Feeling the slightest bit pleased, I rested my head on the pillow before closing my eyes. I needed to take a step back and wrap my head around some things. For starters…

 _Hello, world!_

My conscience simply acknowledged the reference, not bothering to toss out some witty remark or sleeve of sarcasm.

 _Good. Let's get going, shall we? What happened? Simple. I suffered a panic attack and went into shock._

The details were there. Despite the fact that I passed out like a fragile wallflower, I could remember the whole of it. The fear, the gun, the aliens- _Holy fuck!_ _Those were_ _aliens!_

My body wiggled slightly in excitement. Despite what some paranoid voice in my head might've suggested earlier, the thought of meeting aliens was actually very cool and interesting to me.

Another deep breath. The paranoia… What in the world had that been about? I reflexively thought of the feeling of my own hand whipping across my cheek. My face flinched, as if the action had just occurred. It wasn't just paranoia. I'd really lost my marbles there for a while. Talking and thinking to myself were one things. Responding and arguing with myself, while sounding harmless and natural to the thoughtless ear… Was it psychosis? I wanted to think that I'd just been fooling around, but it was hard to be certain after considering how badly I'd reacted to seeing the gun. My emotional state had been far too fragile in that moment. I'd had mental breakdowns before, but never to the point of passing out. Guns and I weren't strangers. I'd seen plenty over the years. I'd been instructed in their use, of their dangers, of the importance of respecting them. I'd held them, prepped them, used them…

But in that moment I'd managed to become viciously afraid of them.

A sequence of thoughts and images fired through my mind. Dark nights in unfamiliar places. Nagging fears about strangers walking by. Those were thoughts and memories pertaining to my work. Then things flashed forwards to yesterday… or earlier today, maybe. There was a full playback of my time in the facility, my hours spent trying to dissect and properly assemble the murder room while I was stuck in the pod, my erratic behavior and sideways internal conversations in the waning minutes before being rescued, and everything in between.

 _Inhale… count to four… exhale. I'm not there anymore. I'm here, wrapped in blankets, breathing, alive, cared for…_

Cared for… Someone had done this to me, logic dictated. I'd been medically taken care of in my time unconscious.

I felt a smile settle onto my face. _What a comforting thought…_

"Is that you waking up?"

It was a slightly high-pitched man's voice, words spoken in an alien language only to be dubbed over in my head after the fact. I recalled the double-speaking effect from my encounter with the pointy alien. A bristle sparked up my spine as my eyes flashed open and glanced over to the sound's origin. I couldn't help but rear back a little when I noticed the figure sitting no further than two feet from the bed.

 _Silvery gray skin, smooth like an amphibian. Thin head, large black eyes, two fleshy horns coming off the top arching into each other. Long, thin limbs. Two fingers, single thumb, digitigrade feet, closed-toed shoes. Thin and lithe silhouette overall. Jumpsuit, presumably shaped like the body. Chest arches out and down from below the collar._

They were looking at me. No doubt I was an amusing sight to behold, especially as I stared in wide-eyed fascination at the fact that they were smiling.

"First time meeting aliens?" they asked.

"…Yeah," I answered.

"It's different for everybody, I hear," they stated as they rose to their feet. They were tall… or maybe I was just low. The bed didn't seem terribly high off the floor. "Things like apprehension, uncertainty, and fear are common, so I'm going to go ahead and let you know something important."

He leaned in a little, only enough to get the point across and not enough to invade my personal space. What he said next was spoken softly, yet the words carried a masterful amount of care and confidence.

"You're safe here. Nobody on this ship will try to hurt you."

I opened my mouth to say something, likely to ask a question of how he could be certain about that. It was a knee-jerk reaction of mine, born from years of people being wrong when they spoke for others. Luckily my brain caught me, and I shut my mouth. Instead I just took a second and smiled back at him. It didn't matter if he knew or not. The point is that he was trying to be nice and make me feel better.

"Thank you." I said it and meant it.

"You're very welcome," he responded in kind.

 _Why did I decide he was a 'he'? Probably the voice. Stupid auto-personification..._

Inner questions aside, we stayed like that for a few more seconds, all smiles and good vibes. It was a fine moment, if I do say so myself. Much needed after everything I'd been through in recent hours.

...It didn't last long enough.

"Now, if you don't mind resting a while longer, I need to run a few more scans," he said before moving his eyes to his wrist.

Cue surprise as an orange hologram-like interface materialized around his hand, wrist, and forearm. I could only stare as he held the device in my direction and allowed it to throw some ominous waves of light over my blanketed form.

"Uhh…" I pondered the wisdom of questioning what he was doing to me. He seemed reassuring, but then… "What is that?"

"It's just a basic scan. It'll give me your condition and compare it to previous scans and older scans on record," he explained. "We don't have any older scans on record for you though, so it'll just be the former for now."

I continued to stare, unable to resist being awe-inspired by the futuristic technology in front of me.

"You don't have to go back to sleep if you don't want to. Just try not to move, okay?" He'd noticed me staring.

"Whatever you say," I answered before closing my eyes and letting myself fade back into a meditative state.

 _Just let him do his thing. Breathe. Inhale… count to four… exhale._

The light from the alien's device stopped running across my eyelids.

 _Inhale… count to eight… I'm doing fine… exhale._

I let the sounds of him moving around the room come to me naturally, not really having to listen.

 _Inhale… count to twelve… everything's going to be fine… definitely not insane… exhale._

The room was silent for a moment.

 _Did I ever tell you the definition of insanity?_

My eyes crashed open. A cough rose in my throat.

"What's the matter?" The doctor was quick to catch my reaction.

"Nothing," I claimed through clenched eyes. "Just a cough."

"From the throat irritation. I can get you something for that," he remarked before dispelling the wrist hologram. "Okay. I should have some results in a few standard minutes."

"Cool…" I didn't know how else to respond.

 _Your hair still smells like vomit._

 _God dammit._

"Is there a shower around here?"

* * *

 **And now we meet more characters. Inb4 the story is ruined.**

 **Sorry for the delay with uploading. I hit a major snag with writing this over the last week. I got sick, had to rewrite a chapter I thought I'd finished, bungled something at work, etc. But we're back (for now), baby!**

 **Review Responses:**

Menschenblut: In the end, they never asked about the other escape pod. For better or worse, they didn't deem it necessary. This may or may not come back to bite them in the future. ;)

Spiritstrike: Ha! I may or may not have watched a bit of Sherlock before coming up with that scene.

GrimTheReaperz1: For now it's just going to be the OC's experience. Events in the story's future with roll with background lore from the games, but we won't be hitting the games' material for quite a while (if at all).

Helyanweh: The coughing comes from their throat being irritated by the breathing tube. The vomiting comes from the overwrought coughing mixed with slight shock. The panicking… They just woke up on an exploding space station with no context, literally falling out of some technological tube that they don't understand, in a body that distinctly isn't theirs. Rational thought isn't really on the menu at that point. It's fine that you don't relate to it though. That's not hard to imagine, given the insanity of the situation. Glad you're liking it regardless.

Griezz: Protag isn't a seasoned space person. Despite their theatrical liking of Star Wars, they don't think much about 'systems' or 'galactic regions', to the point where it doesn't even occur to them to ask. To that end, for the sake of this story, OC has no knowledge of Mass Effect or its universe.


	4. 2-1 Behind Blue Eyes

**Here's a brief notice to maybe read the review responses if you have questions. You might just find the answer in there.**

* * *

 _ **Awake**_

" _Behind Blue Eyes"_

* * *

I'd never been happier to get under a shower. Nothing like some warm water to get your vascular system running nice and smooth.

Too bad whoever was in charge of the ship was a fucking asshole.

 _Only two minutes for a shower? That's lunacy. You should complain about it._

 _They felt like long minutes though. I didn't imagine that, did I?_

 _Probably not. Hey, at least you got the puke smell out of your hair._

"Ugh…"

I stepped out of the shower stall with a sigh. It didn't matter how long the shower was. Aside from towels and the shower itself, there were no amenities for me to take advantage of. No shampoo, body wash, loofah, brush, and definitely none of that stupid fucking cleanser I'd been using because fuck my face.

Fortunately it didn't appear that I needed that last one anymore. While I hadn't had it for long enough to be certain, my new face wasn't nearly as oily or poorly cared for as my old one. That is to say _who the hell is this person in the mirror?!_

It definitely wasn't my old face. Of that I could be quite certain. I'd been very plainly white caucasian, almost stereotypically so. Short brown hair, green-hazel eyes, round face, a genetic double chin, and a small upturned nose. Not having a plain skin color, it was hard for my untrained eye to place the race of this face, and that was assuming it had one at all. The only telling factors were the black hair and blue eyes, not to imply that I knew enough about racial genetics and heritage to actually pull anything from those factors. Everything was differently shaped as well; eyes were rounder, cheeks more pronounced, nose still small but no longer upturned, mouth and lips slightly more pronounced… and again I knew nothing about what any of that meant. All I knew for certain was that I looked human, and the aliens called me a human as well, so at least I still had that going for me.

I closed my eyes and threw some water on my face. The image of my reflection remained like it was branded onto my vision. I stood there for a moment, eyes still closed, taking in the sound of the ship's inner workings humming in the background. Cold water ran down my skin and into the sink, and I couldn't help but notice that the water was running down different facial contours than what I was used to.

 _Inhale… count to eight… motherfuckergodddammitpieceofshit… exhale._

It was hard to digest. What else can I say? Think what you will about acceptance and gender identification. It's one thing when you makes those decisions on your own. People, for the most part at least, live their lives by their own decisions. That's the way things naturally occur. It's when people are _forced_ to change that things get awry.

I hated being forced to do things. Always had. Even after years and years of doing it, I still got miffed when someone told me to take out the trash or do the dishes. I'd do them without a word though, knowing that they were just harmless chores and it was good to help out. Afterward I'd get over it and maybe even feel accomplished in the fact that I got it done. This… _change_ with my body and life was bigger than that, almost hilariously so now that I've compared them. I couldn't just write this off and get over it. Looking in the mirror and seeing something that wasn't what I'd been for the last nineteen years was just… well… _disturbing_ , for lack of a better word. Knowing that I wasn't given a choice in the matter… Every time I looked my reflection in the eyes, a pit of nausea rose up. Not disgusted nausea, but that telltale awkwardness that accompanies the confusion you get when things aren't what you want or expect. And that's not even getting to the even more uncomfortable stuff, like…

I scowled, looking down and putting a hand around one of my pasty breasts. The things were small, or so I'd decided. Not being the biggest player in terms of the great sexual game, my direct experience with female anatomy was limited to the disgusting habit of… er… You know what I'm talking about. The point is that I wasn't positive how to properly describe my qualities, and it definitely wasn't a conversation I felt like having with anyone. Even thinking about it made me squirm, like I was breaking a taboo or something. Was this what it felt like to be the guy who accidentally walked into the girl's locker room?

I blew out another deep sigh and decided to move on for the moment.

To address another development, I still had no idea what I was going to do with the hair. I was trying my best to tolerate it, even as I stood there trying to dry it with nothing but a towel and my wits. It seemed to work, but I'd still have given quite a bit to get my hands on a blowdryer and a brush, not to mention the aforementioned missing hygiene essentials. My dependence on Head & Shoulders to contain my scalp's incessant need to produce flakes came to mind, as did my journey to have better teeth.

 _Actually…_

I flashed my teeth into the mirror. I had the full set, all white and ready for smiles. To contrast my old set had been rather discolored and snaggled in a few places, not to mention its possession of a few false pieces.

 _Oh shit. They fixed your teeth?_

 _More likely that they weren't messed up in the first place._

 _Yeah, something tells me that this body never took that face-first plunge into concrete._

I winced at the memory. Stupid balance…

 _If they did, they got reconstructive surgery._

 _Maybe. Hey! Think about this. Why don't you take note of all the positives about the new body? You've got better teeth. What else?_

 _What's the point of listing positives if I didn't earn them?_

 _...Shit. That's just depressing._

I didn't care what my inner thoughts believed. Taking in positives seemed pointless if they weren't things that I'd worked towards and earned. I'd been given better teeth. I hadn't worked hard and gotten reconstructive surgery or braces or whatever. They hadn't even been a gift from my parents, like braces usually are. The only person around who even knew that I'd ever had bad teeth was me, and like hell if I was going to boast about something I got for nothing. Alas, the vicious cycle of low self-esteem.

What even were the other positives anyway? Paleness wasn't a positive, at least not as far as I was concerned. 'Beauty' was a matter of opinion, so… What? What even was there?

 _Your excess skin is gone._

That was true actually. I'd lost a fair bit of body fat in the last few years, and it'd left me a little flabby. This body, while by no means a runway model, lacked the flab.

 _Another thing cosmetic surgery could've fixed, but was given to me instead._

 _Oh my god, dude. Can you please lighten up? Too much more and you're going to start listening to The Cure._

My eyes unconsciously rolled. _Do you have to comment on everything?_

 _No, but that won't stop me. By the way, what's your obsession with cosmetic surgery?_

 _It's not an obsession. It's a means to an end, specifically the end we're discussing. Teeth don't straighten themselves. Excess skin doesn't just go away._

 _Point, but why do you-_

There was a ping from the door.

" _Everything okay in there?_ " It was the voice of the amphibian alien doctor from when I'd woken up. He was speaking to me via the panel on the door, hence the filter on his voice.

"I'm fine. I'll be out in a moment," I responded.

" _Okay. If you need anything, just say it._ "

"Sure thing."

The panel pinged again, signaling the line was no longer active.

 _How long have we been in here?_

 _Too long._

With that established, I finished up attempting to dry my hair. Shaking the stuff loose, I let it fall around my shoulders and torso. Its length was its most agitating factor, with it easily coming down past my sternum and only stopping at the end of my ribs. It was thick as well, covering me almost like a hood and shirt. A trim would be in order, of that there was no doubt.

Until then… I caught myself blankly staring into the mirror with a grim look on my face.

 _Y'know… You kinda look like a less fucked up version of Alma from FEAR._

I choked on a laugh. _Jesus Christ… Was that supposed to be a compliment or something? Because it wasn't._

 _That's for me to know. You can totally take it as a compliment though. You look like someone who's been on three video game boxes. That's gotta count for something, right?_

My eyes rolled again. Of all the rogue personalities to pop up in my head, it had to be the one who thought they were funny and clever.

 _What's with you trying to be positive all of the sudden? What happened to 'optimism bleh'?_

 _That was before you had an attack and became all depressed._

I looked away from the mirror and scowled. Depressed? Me? Never.

With nothing else to accomplish at the mirror sans perhaps a few more rousing sessions of self-pity, I moved on to getting dressed. The clothes they'd given me were simple, amounting to little more than a gray shirt and pants combo, equally gray slipper shoes, and the modesty it all provided. I couldn't complain, seeing as everything fit my new form a hell of a lot better than the space suit had. I was just lucky that they had emergency supplies for just about any scenario, including clothing for people who weren't part of the crew. Why? Who knows? Maybe it came in a supply kit they'd bought and stowed without picking through what was relevant to them.

I exited the shower room looking only slightly better than when I'd entered it. The doctor was there waiting for me. We were still in the medbay, with it having its own shower so that patients didn't have to wander.

"Feeling better?"

 _No._

"A little," I said with a shrug. "What's next?"

"First, there's this." He held out a small brown candy to me. "It's a lozenge. Won't fix everything, but it should get rid of the cough."

I took it without further prompt and popped it in my mouth. The flavor was nothing special, so I simply accepted it and let him continue.

"Second, I've got the results of that scan we took earlier. You want to go ahead and get that out of the way?"

"Sure," I said with a nod.

With that we returned to where we'd been when I woke up. I sat on the bed while he took the chair.

"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" He brought up his wrist hologram as he spoke, a keyboard appearing under his other hand. "What's your name?"

I immediately regretted agreeing to this conversation. A swallow of salve from the lozenge ran down my throat as I threw that question around. I mean, yeah. It sounds like a simple question, but consider this: How does one explain having a guy's name when one's body is visually female? You might be thinking 'there are several explanations for that', and I considered those as well, but I had a few problems with just throwing around LGBT terminology and beliefs like they were excuses. Problem one, I didn't consider myself L, G, B, or T. Problem two, I liked to think that I respected those parties too much to just pretend to be a part of one. There was also the vague explanation of 'my parents blah blah blah', but my head wasn't working fast enough to consider it.

Which left the more painful explanation, which is to say ' _the fucking truth_ '. As far as I knew, I'd been a guy up until waking up in that fucking tank yesterday… morning… whenever-the-fuck. If anyone was to ask, my first instinct would be to tell them that I was still indeed a guy. The problem was that this _could_ lead to them asking further questions, some of which I wouldn't have a real answer for. Sure, I knew that there were some people out there who were accepting enough to not need to ask, but then I also knew that for every accepting person there was an equal and opposite asshole, and I didn't want to deal with that asshole.

This brought me back to the question. What should I tell this guy? I tell him my real name, then I commit to it and run the possibility of dealing with that asshole. Alternatively… I could always...

"You don't have to say if you don't want to."

 _There's your door._

 _Taking it._

"I don't want to say."

"Okay." He took it in stride, simply typing something into the hologram before moving on. "I'm Rel, by the way."

 _Cue the guilt trip._

 _I'll think of something later._

"And how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Alright. In terms of physical ailments, we've already done what we can for your throat," he stated. "Recommend you avoid raising your voice until it completely subsides. I'll get you more lozenges once we arrive planetside."

 _Planetside? Where do you think they're taking us?_

 _Shush._

"Apart from that, you're in decent enough shape. No underlying issues, injuries, or illnesses as far as I've detected," he went on. "Oh, and your implants are showing no signs of rejection. My regards to the medical techs who installed them."

I stared at him blankly for a moment. _Implants?_ "What are you talking about?"

He stared back awkwardly. "Your implants. Do you not know what I mean by that?"

It took a second, but I eventually reached up and touched the jack on the back of my neck. The awkwardness grew a little, especially when I realized that his tone when he asked that was slightly incredulous. It was like he couldn't believe that I wasn't aware of what was inside of me.

 _Little does he know…_

 _I said 'shush'!_

"Yes," he confirmed about the jack, giving a quick nod. "What can you tell me about it?"

A moment passed before I could answer, as I had to debate the intelligence of telling him about the zap I'd felt before getting released from the tank. Apart from the fact that it hurt, I didn't have any real details concerning that moment. I knew what I felt, but then I didn't have the knowledge to prove it'd been because of the jack. Thus…

"Not a thing." _This awkwardness isn't going away, is it?_ "All I know for certain is that it's attached to me and I don't like it being there."

This seemed to throw the doctor for a bit of a loop, as he quickly looked down and began typing furiously. "It was put there against your will?" He didn't look up as he asked.

"Yes."

 _What if you gave consent and don't remember?_

 _What part of 'shush' do you not understand?_

The doctor continued to-

 _His name is Rel._

Rel continued to type into his notes, his mouth moving as he went. If he was actually saying something, I couldn't hear it. Then he sprung back to me.

"In short, it's an interface that links to your brain and nervous system, its purpose being to introduce artificial stimuli in the patient. False experiences, if you will." he said, sounding rather serious about it. "It's rare, usually only used to train soldiers without field experience, and even that use for it never caught on. Too expensive to implant and maintain function, and requires a lot of programming to use properly."

 _False experiences…_

 _So… basically what we thought about on the pod?_

 _The Matrix…_

 _...fuck._

He paused, typing a little more. "What do you know about the station you were on?"

I centered on the question, using it as an excuse to ignore thinking about that terrible train of thought again.

"Uh…" Unfortunately I didn't have a real answer for him.

 _He knows something._

 _What?_

 _Ask him the same question._

"What do _you_ know about the station I was on?" For better or worse, I found my inner thoughts' suggestion to be sound. He wouldn't have asked if he didn't have something to work off of. Besides, despite having put the mystery of that place aside for a while, my curiosity towards it hadn't waned.

"Remarkably little," he answered quickly. "This ship was chartered to deliver basic supplies to that place on a regular basis. We were actually on a delivery run there when we came across your lifeboat, hence why we had those clothes for you."

I looked down at the gray outfit. _That explains it._

"I take it since you asked that you don't actually know anything."

 _He's sharp._

I hesitated, looking for the right words. "It's… _complicated_."

He didn't vocally comment, dropping us into a moment of silence. His large gray eyes stared at me, scanning me up and down as if in search of something. Was he examining me for nonvocal clues? Maybe he was just waiting for me to speak.

 _He seems nice enough, and he's curious about that place as well. Maybe you can figure it out if you work together._

 _It's not the worst idea._

"Look…" I started, letting out a sigh as I came up with a plan. "I've had a messed up time in the last day or so."

The idea was that maybe if I tell him the story, he'll be able to pull some facts out of it.

"Are you feeling tired? We can take a break if you need to."

"No, it's not that." _I couldn't rest now if I tried._ "Can I… tell you what happened back there?"

 _The voice on the pod told you to 'be mindful of your words in unauthorized company'._

 _What? You think the doc is involved with that?_

 _Not sure. Just making sure you know what you're doing._

"You can tell me whatever you need to," the doctor… _Rel_ said, sounding concerned enough to imply genuineness.

 _Of course I don't know what I'm doing. Also you're the one who told me to collaborate with this guy._

 _Yeah, well… Hesitate later. Converse now._

"I woke up in a tank."

"A tank?" He typed that into his notes without breaking eye contact with me.

"Yeah, y'know… Glass casing, filled with liquid…" I wasn't really sure how else to put it.

"You were inside of it? In stasis?"

"I…" _Is 'stasis' different from regular sleep?_ "I don't know."

"But you were released?"

"Y-Yes," I bounced back. "I don't know why, but the tank let me out. And then…"

 _Honk…_

I flinched. Hard.

 _Ripping the breathing tube out, coughing and gagging..._

"What is it?"

 _Honk…_

"I just…" My eyes were clenched shut.

 _Lifeless silhouettes in the others tanks, pale like me, blood clouding their features..._

"Is it a headache?"

 _Honk…_

I shook my head.

 _Breathe. Inhale… count to four… exhale. Inhale… count to four… exhale._

"You should lie down."

 _Seven dead people. Their bodies and their blood strewn about the room._

I felt the hand on my shoulder. My skin crawled instantly, throwing an even sharper flinch through my body.

 _Where are the killers?_

"Don't-!" I stopped myself before I could even get the second word out. Rel was now reeling backward with his hand on his face.

My only reaction was to cover my gaping mouth with my hands and stare in horror at the stunned alien. A raw sting afflicted the back of my hand, that being where I'd caught his jaw in my 'flinching'.

 _Oh shit._

 _Oh shit._

"Oh shit…"

An indeterminable yet short amount of time passed, during which I was forced to watch the doctor go through some emotions. He was clearly surprised by what had happened, though I dare say that he seemed less so than me. He didn't seem mad, or if he was then it wasn't directed towards me. In fact he actually had the fortitude to keep facing me and put his hands up in a nonthreatening way.

"Easy…" he said slowly. "That was my fault. I shouldn't have done that."

"I hit you." There was no way around it. If you need emotional input, try ' _absolutely fucking mortified_ '. The quiver in my voice made me very aware of myself for a few seconds, and then I noticed my vision blurring with liquid. In case it requires saying, that was the first time I could recall striking someone like that. And I'd done it to someone who'd only been trying to help me.

My head was in my hands, sobs and tears pouring out.

 _How could I have done that? God damn it!_

 _We shouldn't have talked about that. That was a terrible fucking mistake._

I just shook my head and tried not to think about it.

There was another moment of silence, though this time silence was relative. I eventually stopped my sniveling, and Rel seemed content to just type some more. Just tiny sniffs and taps, a shift in his chair as he sat back down. When I finally pulled my head up, I found him reading his notes and quietly moving his mouth. I was shaking, and his silver skin gleamed in my tear-stroked vision, but I could still see dark lines coming in on his cheek.

"I…" What could I have said? Sorry? "Your face…"

"Hm?" He checked his reflection in the screen of a tablet that was sitting on his desk. "Oh, this is nothing. I had a patient buck me across the room once. If you think a bruised cheek is bad, you should try cracked ribs on for size."

I had to bite my lip to keep from being distrustful. How could he not be mad? I didn't understand. If someone had hit me like that, even if it was just an accident, I'd have been livid. Yet here he was cracking jokes.

"But-"

"But nothing." He threw his finger out as he interrupted me. "I already told you that it was my fault. You were clearly upset, and I've taken enough training courses to know not to touch distraught patients. It was a reflex move, and a poorly timed one at that. I apologize."

 _What? I mean… What?_

 _He's apologizing? But we hit him!_

Instead of dignifying that internal repetition of logic with a response, I took another deep breath. I needed to reign in my rationality, lest this remain unresolved.

"Right," I accepted his apology. "And I'm sorry as well. I should've handled that better."

"No, no, no." He waved my claim off before I'd even finished. "You have nothing to apologize for. You've clearly gone through something terrible. I may be a physician and not a psychologist, but I've seen enough PTSD victims to recognize the signs."

 _PTSD? …Oh shit._

"I have PTSD?"

"Well, again, I'm not a psychologist," he quickly disclaimed. "But the beginning of your story plus that reaction doesn't leave too much to the imagination."

I found myself looking down, uncertain how to feel or think about things at the moment. PTSD hadn't even crossed my mind, though at the same time it kind of made sense. Post-traumatic stress disorder, right? What else had my time in the facility been but trauma? Stress? Between the new body and unfamiliar surroundings, I could very well be pictured in the dictionary next to 'stress'. Now that I was thinking about it, it was pretty hard to deny, especially after having struck Rel.

"So what do I do about it? Therapy?"

"Therapy," he repeated with a nod. "That and also a reduction of stressors in your life. Move out to the country, go fishing, whatever it is you humans do to relax."

I almost chuckled. Almost.

Before anything else could be said, the medbay door pulled apart. My body tensed at the sight of the visitor, it being none other than the alien that had come at me with a gun and caused me to faint. My eyes wasted no time in checking their belt, only to find it missing entirely. Actually, once I'd given them a full check, I found them to be carrying no weapons at all.

She noticed me staring more or less instantly, not having taken two full steps into the room before speaking.

"Hey…" It was an awkward and soft-spoken greeting, probably brought on by the fact that I was leering at her. My brain was a little hung up on associating her with the panic attack I'd had when last we met, thus I caught myself unconsciously looking at her like a cat might a loud and obnoxious stranger.

 _It wasn't her that freaked you out. It was the gun._

 _I'd say it was combination of both. Also the gun was only there because she brought it, so that makes them all but the same entity._

"Cia," Rel stated, presumably stating their name.

 _She doesn't have it now though._

 _Hence why I'm just glaring at her and not, say, freaking out and dropping like a brick._

"Everything going alright in here?" she asked, turning her attention to Rel. No answer could be given before her eyes narrowed on the doctor. "What happened to your face?"

My heart nearly skipped a beat as the tall, sharp-featured alien's eyes flicked at me for the briefest of instances. No surprise, but her face still seemed to be defaulted to that harsh glare. Her tone hadn't been accusing or anything, but the glance was all I needed to assume that she suspected me in some way.

"Hm?" Rel brushed a hand over where I'd struck him. "Oh, I hit it on a shelf earlier. Does it look bad?"

My teeth clenched down on the inside of my cheek, stopping me from reacting more severely as Rel lied. I couldn't imagine what possessed him to do so, but at least the false explanation hadn't mentioned me.

The only problem was that Tall, Dark, and Pointy wasn't buying it.

"That's a slap mark," she called the bluff. It was so fast that I didn't even have time to fully register my raised hopes before they were dashed again. Disappointment turned to fear almost immediately as the menacing alien turned fully at me.

 _Oh god no._

"You responsible for this?"

I can only assume that my expression as she stared me down was that of the proverbial deer in the headlights… or maybe an actual person in the headlights, considering that deer typically weren't capable of opening their mouths and choking on startled apologies.

She took one step towards me, no doubt intending to come over and teach me a lesson. I unconsciously yelped and threw myself backwards. There was only one problem with that course of action, that being the fact that the medical cot I'd sat on was set into the an alcove in the wall. This meant that 'backwards' from my sitting position lead me back-first into a slab of metal, trapping me with the incensed alien only a few steps away. I tried to press back through it, but of course that didn't work.

 _Oh please god no._

"Cia, no!"

My head sprung back up when I registered Rel's interjection. My eyes focused in time to see the amphibian taking the taller being aside and pulling their head down so he could whisper into their ear.

 _She doesn't have ears._

 _Not showy ones like a human, but he's still whispering into her head. Ears are implied._

 _Weird how these aliens have anatomy similar to humans and stuff._

 _Evolution's a bitch._

They muttered back and forth for almost thirty seconds, eventually moving to the complete other side of the room so that I couldn't even hear the inflections of their tones. What little I picked up implied an argument, presumably him talking her down.

 _Also you're assuming that Pointy is a girl._

 _I hear a woman's voice when she talks. She's a girl._

 _They probably hear a girly voice when you talk too. Are you a girl?_

 _No… wait… Shit._

The tiniest of flashbacks to the first time I looked down at my new body blinked through my mind. I shook my head a little to dispel it.

 _Ugh… Gotta stop doing that._

 _We need a safe word. Something to make you stop and think happy thoughts._

 _Brain bleach command? Turnip._

 _Turnip's the reboot password. We can't be tempted to switch off and on again every time you get freaked out._

For the record, my internal lexicon referred to my ability to stop and unfuck myself as 'rebooting'. 'Turnip' was the trigger word. Why? Because Harvest Moon used to be my go-to relaxation game, that's why.

 _...Parsnip?_

 _Shit we're hungry._

 _I wish I was playing Stardew Valley right now._

"Okay," Rel all but yelled into the room to pull attention his way. He was walking towards me, a less-than-thrilled Pointy in tow.

"This is Cia," Rel introduced her to me in a more proper fashion. Naturally he used her correct name instead of the silly nickname I preferred.

To my surprise, the female-esque alien appeared to have returned to the awkwardness that had been present when she first walked into the room and noticed me staring at her. Her mask of a face was hard to read, but some part of me dared to think that it had the potential to be the apologetic kind of awkward. It was enough to keep me from thinking up a quip, if nothing else.

"She might not be willing to say it, but she's sorry for acting so… _impassioned_."

" _Impassioned?_ " the alien woman repeated, sounding offended. The awkwardness increased to new levels. "Rel…"

 _He's hosing her._

 _I wonder if they teach that in medical school._

"What? Someone has to apologize for you."

She stammered through some nonwords before reigning in her frustration. "Fine, whatever. I came in here to tell you that T'Shin wants to speak with you."

"Excellent. You can watch the patient while I go take care of that." It was a statement, not a request or suggestion.

She produced more stammering and nonwords, but to no avail. Rel just smiled, winked at me, and walked out of the room without another word spoken.

 _Damn, he's smooth._

The medbay door shut behind the man, leaving me and Cia an astonishingly pregnant awkward silence.

Cia was the first to move, wheeling around to find me sitting cross-legged on the bed. I was leering at her again, as if I could possibly do anything else while stuck in a room alone with the living, breathing source of not one but now _two_ panic attacks in as many meetings.

This initiated a staring contest. I dug my incisors into my lip while she narrowed her hawk-like eyes at me. I couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind right now. It was clear that she didn't want to be here, though whether it was because I was bothering her or she actually had something else to be doing was up for debate. The real question was what needed to be done in order to avoid making enemies of each other.

Seconds passed…

 _God forbid you actually talk to her._

 _Patience we must have, my young Padawan. Let her make the first move._

After nearly fifteen seconds, the alien finally blinked. _Bingo._

"Spirits…" _There's that oath again._ "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to scare you earlier. The same goes for back in the lifeboat. I was just being careful."

My brow furrowed in surprise. That was more sincere sounding than I expected.

"Alright," I said with a nod. "Just to say, I wasn't going to hold the lifeboat thing against you. You were probably just doing your job."

 _You were totally holding it against her, and you only thought of the second point just now._

 _Shut up! I'm trying to build a bridge here._

"Yes, that was the case. I run security on this flying hunk of metal, so carrying a gun around is kind of my job," she explained. The relief in her voice was clear to pick up, hopefully coming from my understanding. She did make a show of patting her beltless hip though. "Rel gave me an earful about it regardless of that fact though, so I decided to make an effort to avoid a repeat scenario."

I nodded again, going along with what she was saying.

 _Apologies left and right today._

 _Better than holding grudges and letting misunderstanding fester._

"It's fine. Water under the bridge," I offered.

She paused, blinking a few times. Then, in what was easily the most amusing thing I'd seen since waking up in that tank, I watched a tall and sharp-edged alien move their hands in a way that resembled water flowing. Her eyes followed her hands, as if looking for something that held meaning. Another pause, some deep thought, and then she pointed at me.

"I get it," she claimed eagerly. "Is that a Human euphemism?"

I nodded once again, this time stifling a laugh. "It means 'what has passed is past'."

"Right." She gave her own nod.

There was another brief silence, albeit one of contentment.

Then my stomach growled.

"What the hell was that?"

Another laugh, only this time there was no stifling. I let out a much needed raspy chuckle.

It almost felt good.

* * *

 **And that's some light character introduction. We get a little bit of an idea what really went on back at the facility, and our intrepid hero is dealing with awkwardness of being stuck in the wrong body. Will the day ever come when it's not awkward for them to think about it? No, probably not.**

 **Oh, and they freaked out and slapped someone. That was neat.**

 **Sorry if it feels like not much is getting done in this chapter. Next chapter is a direct continuation of it. Hopefully I can get it out without too much of a delay (don't count on it).**

 **Review Responses:**

Menchenblut: Another episode in the pod would've shown Protag pounding their head into the wall. Didn't feel like letting things devolve that far. As for tractor beams, what I was able to find states that 'tractor beam' is the phrase for something that attracts something else from a distance. By that definition, even if ME tech is integrated, it's still a tractor beam. And they sneeze in German because I DEMAND IT.

1KBestK: It won't be obvious, but right now the idea is to stay true to ME canon without actually featuring said canon. We'll be dodging the games' events in favor of the expanded galaxy.

Fan-rei/Griezz: 'Genderless' is not quite the right term for Protag's condition. It's more like they're a woman without genitalia. They might use the word 'genderless' to make themselves more comfortable, but it's ultimately just an unreliable narrator being unreliable. When the doctor says they're a woman, it's because he sees the basics of a woman. He doesn't bring up the lack of genitalia in this because it simply isn't relevant. It's not a recent operation or anything with scars to bring up. They never had genitalia. It's just the way they are.

 **Once again, a huge thank you to all the reviewers. Your kind words keep this story rolling, and your criticism keeps me learning.**

 **I've been The Blocked Writer, and I hope you're having a wonderful day.**


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